I Tried To Stop
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: An unidentified spaceship crashes to Earth, but with the Doctor unable to land for unknown reasons, it's up to his friends to investigate the mysterious craft. Though presumably empty, they find much more than they bargained for, and when all is said and done they'll wish they never had. SEQUEL to "It Can Come Back" and "For Just One Cell", AU post-Season Six, same pairings
1. Chapter 1

**At long last, I am beginning the sequel to "For Just One Cell" and "It Can Come Back". Thank you all for waiting so patiently, and for those of you who just stumbled across these stories, welcome! Once more, this story picks up not exactly after the last one left off. It's been a couple months for our favorite characters. Without further ado, I'll let you dive right in. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter One**

Rory squinted his eyes as he looked up into the sunny sky in order to follow the arc of his father's golf ball. It sailed over the green, bounced once, and rolled just that little bit closer to the hole.

"Good shot, dad," he commented.

Brian gave him a tight smile and stepped back, gesturing to him to place his own ball and tee in the grass. They both knew of course the end result of this game; Brian Williams was a much better golfer than his son.

It was funny, really. Rory had faced down monsters, had ridden a motorcycle with no prior experience, and had learned every sport in the past two-thousand years. Yet he couldn't seem to get a silly little golf ball into a silly little hole.

It was with these thoughts that he paused after setting the ball on his tee and glanced back at his father. Rory had made a promise to himself that he would finally tell the older man the truth about his life. Or rather, his _whole_ life. He hadn't done so yet, but he'd been hoping to use this time out together golfing to talk.

"Er, dad," he began somewhat shakily.

"Yes, Rory?" His father was looking at him so openly, so utterly unaware of the knowledge his son was about to shock his entire world with.

"Uh- never mind." Or not shock his entire world with. Could anyone honestly expect him to do it? Rory Williams, from Leadworth? His father didn't even think he could fix a light properly! That he couldn't wasn't the point, naturally. He couldn't help he was too busy running around fighting monsters half the time to do house maintenance. What could possibly convince normal Brian of such a crazy, fantastical story?

Rory shook his head and returned his gaze to the darkened ground. Readying his stance, he swung the club back in preparation to make the swing—

Hang on. _Darkened_ ground?

"Rory, what's the matter?" His father asked, for he'd stood straight and placed the club down, turning his face to the sky. "What _is_ that?" Apparently Brian had looked up, too.

A huge, dark—almost black—structure was passing overhead, blocking out the sun. It was shaped rather like a Frisbee, though not nearly as flat, and yet it might as well have been made of sharp angles and mounted cannons and spikes, it was so imposing.

Even as they watched, a strange sort of laser shot up and Rory had to both shield his eyes and cover his ears at the impact. A flash that registered behind his eyelids and an explosion that threatened to shatter his eardrums left him dazed and blinking. Dimly, he realized his father had stumbled forward to stand beside him and was gaping at the sight above them.

The smoke cleared, but what Rory saw only made his heart rate jump in speed. The object was completely intact, and it suddenly hit him—it was so huge in the sky because it was slowly losing altitude, falling closer and closer. Closer to _them_.

"Dad, we need to move," he stated as calmly as he could.

"But what is—"

"Dad, _run_!" He commanded, grabbing the older man's arm and yanking him away, fleeing the green as fast as possible. They soon weren't the only ones as every single golfer abandoned his clubs and carts and ran away.

Rory glanced back sharply and saw that the thing was about to collide with the ground, right in the sand trap.

"Get down!" He warned, throwing himself over his father protectively. There was a great _boom_ and the earth trembled. Those who hadn't taken his advice were knocked down regardless, dropping to the ground with grunts and cries of alarm and fear.

It was some time before he pushed himself up, wary of potential shrapnel. But when he rolled onto his back and sat up, the only visible damage he could see to the mysterious object was a tear in the side, not very large. The ground around it, however, was torn up and resembled almost a crater.

"My word," Brian breathed, getting unsteadily to his feet. Rory scrambled to follow suit. "What is that? What _is_ it?"

"If I had to guess, some kind of spaceship," he answered honestly before beginning to examine his father for injuries.

"A spaceship? Be serious, Rory."

"I am, dad," he sighed, starting to walk away.

"Wait, where are you going?" The other man looked and sounded almost fearful, unused to this sort of excitement.

"There must be people who were hurt. I'm training to be a doctor, I can help."

People were gathering together, officials for the golf course were running to the scene, and everyone was clearly beginning to panic.

"Alright!" He barked in his most authoritative voice, and most of them stopped talking and stared. "We need to set up a temporary med station for anyone injured."

"There's a closed-top pavilion that way," one worker offered, pointing in the direction of the building. "It's reserved for a birthday party in an hour—"

"I don't think they'll mind," he cut across impatiently. "I want whatever first-aid or medical equipment you have there in five minutes. Is that clear?"

"Er, yes, sir!"

"Everyone else, help anyone who has been hurt to the pavilion." He swallowed his nerves and swept the crowd with a look, making sure they understood. They all nodded, except his father, who was gaping at him baffled, as if he didn't even know him.

Well, he'd have time to deal with that later. For now, he had work to do. "Dad, help the others."

His father chose to follow him instead. "Rory, you said that was a spaceship."

"Yeah, I did."

"But that looks nothing like a spaceship!"

"Well, I'd be pretty worried if it was one of ours," he pointed out. The older man didn't seem to appreciate the humor.

"'One of ours'?" His father repeated incredulously.

"Listen, dad, I don't know what it is yet. No one does. But I'm sure some of my friends are on their way right now and they'll figure it out."

"What have your friends got to do with it?" Brian called after him, but Rory just waved over his shoulder and continued on.

He'd cleared the uphill part and the pavilion was in sight when a familiar, teasing voice got his attention.

"Well, someone looks busy."

He smiled in spite of himself as he turned around. "Hi, Jack. Oh, and Martha." The Captain and doctor appeared to be making their way down to the crash site.

"I didn't know you were a golfer, Rory," Martha remarked in mild surprise.

"I'm not, my dad is," he informed them, and she winced in sympathy. It seemed the dark-haired woman was well-acquainted with the headache of relatives-involved-in-the-crisis. "So do we know what that thing is?"

"Some type of spacecraft, but nothing on the specifics. Kate's having Mickey and his crew run some scans to see if we can't find out a little more," Jack summarized.

"Kate?"

"Director Stewart, new head of UNIT," she explained, and Rory raised his eyebrows. He'd never met anyone from UNIT higher up than Colonel Mace. If the director of the intelligence organization was on-sight, this had to be serious.

"Well, I had them set up a med station in that pavilion," he told her, and Martha smiled gratefully.

"Great idea. Thanks, Rory. We should get over there, then." She turned and joined him, not before pointing a warning finger at their immortal friend. "Be careful, Jack."

Jack Harkness flashed her a wide, toothy grin. "When am I not, Martha Jones?"

She smiled and shook her head and the two of them walked on to the pavilion. Rory tried not to let thoughts about the mysterious spacecraft distract him, but he hoped they'd know what it was—and why it was here—soon.

OoO

She stopped to catch her breath, hands braced on her knees as she took great gulps of air that both soothed and burned her lungs. It was enough of a break, though, and all she could afford. She could handle the running; in this moment, she felt like all those years on the TARDIS had been training for this one run.

Amy had seen the golf course on the news. No names had been mentioned—but Rory and Brian were there. She had to know.

At last she made it, likely a red-faced, sweaty sight, and jumped the security tape.

"Miss, you can't—" a police officer started, but a protective hand landed on her shoulder.

"It's ok, she's with us."

"Mickey?" She gasped, looking up at the grinning man.

"Hey, Amy. Figures you'd be mixed up in all this."

She snorted. "Mixed up? I'm just here to find Rory and Brian."

"Who's Brian?" Mickey inquired.

"Rory's dad, he's—over there!" She pointed over the dark-skinned man's shoulder at a group of people being questioned by UNIT personnel. Brian Williams stood among them, looking lost and more than a bit confused

"Were they here when the ship crashed? Those are the people we're taking statements from." He followed her over, standing a few paces back respectfully as she ran to embrace her father in-law.

"Brian!" Relieved, Amy threw her arms about him and though the older man gave a start, he was soon hugging her back with equal fervor.

"Oh, Amy! How did you- did you run all the way here?"

"Yeah, but that's not important. Are you ok?" Once she was sure of that she could move on to worrying about Rory.

"Yes, I'm alright. But Amy, they're saying a spaceship—"

"I saw on the news," she informed him, nodding a couple of times before somewhat impatiently asking, "Brian, where's Rory?" She stood on her tiptoes, peering around the taller man and scanning the crowd with her eyes for her husband. But she didn't see the stupid face!

"If Rory was here, I would have seen him," Mickey offered.

"He's in the med station they've set up in that pavilion," Brian began, pointing up the sloping green.

Amy gasped. "Oh my God. Rory!" The adrenaline firing up once again, she shot off up the hill, hearing both men call after her but not truly registering it.

Dodging benches and tables that had been set up on the gray cement flooring, she hurried past people, looking for that familiar messy light brown hair, that calm unflappable voice, hoping that he wasn't—

"Ok, I think you just sprained it, but—"

"Rory!" She almost screamed, suddenly finding him before her, examining the ankle of a middle-aged man. Unable to contain the overwhelming relief she felt, Amy flung herself into his arms just as he turned around in shock.

"Amy? What- how—why are you shaking?" She was. Now that the fear and joy and everything had mixed together and began to dissipate, she felt almost lightheaded. She wasn't all that bothered by it, though.

"I'm so glad you're alright," she spoke into his shoulder. "Brian said you were at the med station and I just panicked."

"Why wouldn't I be at the med station? It's my job," he pointed out, sounding rather bemused by her words. She pulled away and did her best to scowl.

"Well when you see a spaceship crash into the exact golf course your husband and his father are playing at on the news you're not exactly thinking straight, are you?"

He winced slightly under her gaze, offering a muttered "Sorry," before saying more loudly, "So are they saying what it is yet? Aside from the obvious, I mean."

"I haven't heard anything," she told him. "I ran into Mickey on the way in, and he said they're just taking statements. They'll probably want yours soon."

"I'll go see him after Martha and I are done here," he nodded, gesturing for the next person, a woman with a long scrape on her arm, to come forward. "But, Amy, could you go get my dad? He's sort of, er, dazed by all this. I'm a little worried about him."

"Sure," she agreed, recognizing that he had work to do here. "Uh, how much have you said, exactly?"

"Not much."

"We might want to, then. Before, well…" she trailed off, knowing he understood her meaning. Nodding once, he turned back to his patient and she left the pavilion. Because as Amy stood looking down at the crash site, she knew this could only be the beginning of something they'd found themselves involved in once again. And that usually meant they could count on something—or rather, someone—being not far behind.

It was a wonder he wasn't here already. Then they'd _really_ have some explaining to do to Brian.

OoO

Forward stroke, drift. Backward stroke, drift. It was a calm, steady rhythm, one he was trying his best to maintain. The Doctor had forgotten just how much physical effort was required for driving a gondola, but as he had suggested it he was keeping his mouth shut. The blue skies, warm sun, and refreshing breeze more than made up for it. He'd landed them in a truly beautiful day, a lazy afternoon in the city that on a regular basis would drive him absolutely out of his mind, but was perfect for a brief reprieve. And why go for a stroll when you could tour Venice the proper way by canal?

With this in mind, the Doctor had even dressed for the occasion, wearing all black as required by the laws at the time. The bowtie, of course, remained, accompanied by a bowler hat—admittedly a bit early, but he couldn't resist. And if it was going to be the fashion in another half a century, what was the harm? He nodded to a fellow passing team of gondoliers, as they were customarily driven before the tourists, smiling warmly at the sight of the young couple obviously enjoying the romantic setting.

"Ah, Venice," he sighed aloud.

"Practicing your Harrison Ford, darling?" Her voice, as it did in most cases, brought him back to his own present situation.

"Hm?" He glanced down to find River smiling fondly up at him from underneath the _felze_, the little cabin for passengers on the original gondola models. Not to be outdone, she'd found a dress in the wardrobe that fit quite nicely in the time period, and fit her more than nicely. He was pretty sure she'd hidden a gun somewhere under those skirts, though.

As her grin grew more and more amused, he realized that she had indeed asked him a question, which was the sort of thing that usually necessitated an answer. "No, no, dear, merely remarking upon the scenery. Funny you should mention that, though, because I did run into George and Steven that one time…I've often wondered if I provided some sort of inspiration."

"I'm sure you did," she replied before leaning back on the bench slightly and watching the city move by as he steered them onward. "You're quite right, of course. Venice is lovely this time of year. And this year in general."

"Yes, I thought I'd go a bit post sexy fish vampires," he commented, adding hastily when she arched a dangerous eyebrow, "Which, in hindsight, weren't really that sexy, since they were fish…vampire…things. They'd never come close to you, River." Having recovered by the end, he risked meeting her eyes again.

She was smirking and seemed to be enjoying his own self-induced floundering. "Thank you, Sweetie."

"Venice itself doesn't compare," he boasted. He'd meant to make it teasing, and yet there was an unmistakable sincerity to his tone. She laughed behind her hand softly, but he could tell by the hint of pink to her cheeks she was quite pleased to hear it.

His wife took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly, a contented smile on her face. "I'm glad we're taking this holiday, you know."

"I thought we already were on a holiday?" He pointed out and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh shut it, you know what I mean. A relaxing day is a nice break from the normal, is all. And—though I'm not complaining—it's been a while since we've had some time to ourselves, Doctor."

She was leaning forward toward him now, full red lips in an almost pout, and it wasn't until he'd cupped the side of her face with one hand and brushed a stray curl from her cheek with his thumb that he realized he'd stopped driving the gondola altogether. He felt justified, however, in allowing the boat to inch along on its own for just a moment longer in order to tilt his head down just a little more—

"DaaaaaaAAAD!"

"DOC-TAH!"

He hung his head in defeat with a groan as River withdrew her blaster from within some hiding place in her dress just as he had suspected. "Well, get us to land, Doctor! Jenny and Donna don't scream for nothing."

"I know!" He retorted, already putting his back into it, sending the boat in long strokes to the side of the canal. River was leaping out before he even began to tie the boat, her rapid movement causing it to rock violently back and forth. He dropped the oar with a splash in order to pinwheel both arms in a desperate attempt to stay balanced. But soon he was stumbling forward onto land as she yanked him along behind her by one of his braces. She didn't bother to save the bowler, which joined the oar in the canal.

They didn't have to search long to find the remaining two members of their group. His daughter and best friend were sprinting down a main street, footsteps echoing loudly on the cobblestones and, by the sounds of it, a mob not far behind.

He stretched his arms out in front, stopping the blonde girl and half-catching her as she ran headlong into him. Donna skidded to a halt and stood panting for breath. "Jenny, Donna—what is going on?"

"How should I know?" The temp returned. "One minute we're browsing through the shops and I mention to Jenny we should find you and River soon, then this fancy-looking bloke starts shouting his head off about a chicken and sets his men after us!"

The Doctor blanched. "Oh dear."

River shot him a look. "Doctor…is that—"

"Casanova," he finished for her. "Knew I picked 1580 for the Ponds for a reason. Well, seeing as I haven't got a chicken, I think it best we retreat."

"Retreat how? The TARDIS is on the other side of that canal!" His wife reminded him. "If he sees you trying to row us all over there, he'll likely have them shoot at you!"

"Oh, come on, Casanova's not heartless."

"Are you sure, dad? He seemed pretty angry," Jenny countered, an uncertain look to her face.

"He wasn't even a professional gambler," he reassured her with a pat on her shoulder.

"_Doctor_!" A very angry Venetian male voice shouted from just around the corner.

He gulped. "Right. Retreat it is." He grabbed his daughter's hand, leading her quickly back the way he and River had just come and knowing the other two women would follow suit.

"Yes, but how—" The curly-haired one started to protest again.

"We're just going to have to hope there's no more sexy fish vampires."

"Sexy _what_?" Donna demanded.

"Vampires?" Jenny exclaimed, rather excited at the prospect.

"Oh, it's a good one, Jenny, but—"

"No. Doctor, no!" River protested as they reached the edge of the canal. He could make out on the other side, just behind a vendor's stall, the blue of their safe haven.

"No," Donna joined in as realization dawned. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," he nodded once, releasing his daughter's hand in order to rub his own two together. "Right then, best to just take the plunge, yes?" Without further ado, he dived into the canal.

It really was much deeper than people normally gave the watery passageways of Venice credit for, and when he came up treading water, Jenny had jumped in as well, apparently pulling a reluctant Donna with her who broke the surface spluttering. With a long-suffering sigh, River gathered up her skirts and jumped as well.

The increasing volume of their pursuers' voices spurred them into further action, beginning to swim for the other side. It was hard going; they had to be careful to mind the other boats, gondolas among them, and people stared openly with shock and disgust at such an undignified display. The one good result was that they were likely safe from any sorts of bullets in these highly populated pathways.

The Doctor hurriedly pushed Donna up and over onto ground, boosted Jenny up as well, and then pushed himself up in order to sit on the canal's edge. Poor River, normally the more graceful between the two of them, was struggling with the weight of her dress and so he heaved her up into his arms, carrying the sopping mess of fabric with him.

"Oh, put me down," she fussed, clearly disgruntled as he ushered the other two along. Donna and Jenny had opted for their normal clothes after the redhead had taken one look at him and proclaimed he looked ridiculous, and so though they were soaking they were much less inconvenienced than his wife. "If you think carrying me is going to make up for all this, you're greatly mistaken."

"Yes, yes," he dismissed, dodging around the vendor's stall. "Snap, Jenny, snap!"

"Oh- right!" The girl remembered, raising her hand high and giving a single snap. The blue police box doors swung open, and they eagerly rushed inside.

"_I'm _driving," the archeologist announced as soon as her feet touched down on the glass floor, and he deemed it best to back off and allow her free reign. Joining Donna and Jenny by the railing, he did his best not to look to pathetic, yet the redhead human still smirked at him. He pouted in her direction, not expecting it to help much, but to his surprise the temp lost the teasing expression.

"Sorry about interrupting your date," his friend muttered.

"Our- what—it wasn't—it—" He wasn't sure what exactly he was protesting. He supposed that whenever they paired off on their travels as they had in Venice it could be classified as a date. But…the Doctor just didn't go on dates.

"Dad, how come Casanova wants a chicken—" Jenny started to inquire softly, but he shook his head quickly.

"Some other time, Jenny."

At last, River stepped back from the controls, having put them back in the Vortex, and leveled him with a long, disapproving stare, before sighing with a slight upward quirk to her lips. "I suppose I'm just used to these things," the blonde woman remarked. She turned away and gathered her skirts, walking up the stairs and into the corridor. "I'm getting out of these ruined clothes and into a nice, long shower. Call me when we land." Her voice echoed back into the control room, and he winced just slightly. Sure, he wife wasn't mad at him, but she certainly wasn't happy either.

Donna only looked more guilt-ridden, and Jenny was glancing away as well. Clearly both felt they were to blame for disrupting the calm afternoon. Well, that just wasn't allowed. It was his own stupid fault for not giving the womanizer his chicken. Injecting some false cheer into his tone, the Doctor addressed them. "Right then, I suppose it's off to the next adventure, eh? Perhaps a little closer to home."

It wasn't a half-bad idea, come to think of it. Stopping by the Ponds always lifted River's spirits up, as well as his own. And Donna hadn't been in to see Wilfred and Sylvia for a good while now.

"After that can we see a new planet?" Jenny asked hopefully. "I know Earth's your favorite, but I want to go somewhere exciting again."

"Exciting things can happen in the most unassuming places," he smiled indulgently as he bopped her on the nose. "Now, you two best follow River's example and get out of those wet things. I'll land us and we can be checking in with everyone within the hour."

"Don't forget to change yourself, Martian," Donna reminded him before she followed Jenny out of the control room. He waved a hand acknowledging her words before getting right to work, punching in the familiar coordinates and sending them spinning through the Vortex. Satisfied, the Doctor turned in order to leave the room himself, when suddenly the entire console shuddered.

Spinning back around on his heel in alarm, the Doctor quickly took hold of levers and buttons in an attempt to get the ship back under control, but the shaking stopped just as abruptly as it had begun, with no interference on his part. Perplexed, he pulled the monitor over and flipped it on, the screen displaying that they were still inside the Vortex.

"What?" He murmured aloud to himself. Switching it off and on again, it showed the same result. "What's the matter, Old Girl?" His ship remained silent.

Still, nothing was immediately of concern, and if something was faulty with the wiring it would be best not to fiddle with it in wet clothes. With a slight frown, the Doctor turned and marched up the stairs, taking one last puzzled glance back at the console, and resolved to look into the issue first thing after drying off and changing clothes.

It was likely a minor problem, but not being able to get to Earth was making him uneasy.

**So that's the first chapter! It's super long, I was not expecting that. Also, sorry this has been so long in the making, I stopped several times to update other stories, watch Classic Who, have real life, and look up trivial facts about historical gondolas. The things I do for a modicum of accuracy…at any rate, I'm excited to hear what you all think! This story is going to be big. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, so trying to keep on-track with my other stories and real life has delayed this update longer than I'd like, but I'm so happy for the positive responses already. I'm hoping this sequel lives up to expectations, but you'll have to read on to decide that. Without further ado, the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Two**

Brian raised an arm in a futile effort to stop his daughter-in-law from racing off to the pavilion to see his son for herself. The poor girl looked about ready to collapse and yet pushed herself even further. Alone once again and still utterly lost, he turned his attention to the young man who was seemingly familiar with both Amy and Rory.

"I'm sure you're rather busy, but just what is going on here?"

The dark-skinned man gave a tight smile. "Basically what they said on the news. That thing there is a spaceship that's crashed for some reason. Now we're just trying to find out who it belongs to and why it crashed."

"But- but that's ridiculous! Spaceships aren't real—not like those!"

The other male only seemed bemused. "You mean you don't know? Hasn't Rory or Amy said?"

"Said what?" He demanded, somewhat harsher than he intended. But this man's words, Amy's frantic behavior, and that crashed…thing were starting to get at him. And all three were only serving as reminders of the way his son had acted earlier this same day.

Rory and he had never had a strong bond. They understood each other well enough, but they weren't the closest a father and son could be to one another. Oh, Brian was always meaning to visit more often, sure, but it didn't really happen. And after Rory had married Amy and they'd moved into their own house together, it had been harder to make the time to actively seek his son out.

Nowadays he wasn't even sure what all Rory did aside from his occupation as a nurse. Any friends he had, like that rather strange John Smith fellow, weren't local, and though it was never for long periods of time, his son and daughter-in-law were often out of town, their neighbors unable to recall hearing how or why.

The distance between them and his own tentative, non-interfering attitude had kept him from worrying over it too much, until now. But with this sudden development literally smashing into his world, Brian felt unsure and apprehensive, like there was something he was not being told.

"No they- they haven't," he managed to reply to this new acquaintance of his. "They haven't said anything about spaceships, or- or—"

"Then it's really not my place," the other man interrupted, looking almost pitying. "I'm Mickey Smith, one of your son's friends. I work with UNIT, who is heading up this investigation."

That term 'unit' sounded vaguely familiar. He thought he'd heard Rory mention it this past spring before he and Amy had left home for some weeks. "Sorry, what is a 'unit'?"

Mickey Smith smiled a little, shaking his head. "UNIT is short for the Unified Intelligence Taskforce; we deal with extraterrestrial situations."

"What, alien intelligence?" He asked for clarification. First they were all saying crashed spaceships, now this! True the large object currently occupying the majority of his local golf course did seem sort of sci-fi in nature, but these people who had come in to rope off the area and question people were well-organized and equipped. That sort of thing required government backing.

Even if this quack organization had gotten federal approval and funds, what did that have to do with Amy and Rory? How had his son and his son's wife gotten mixed up with these people?

Whatever response Mickey Smith was going to give him never came, as an armored car pulled up to the golf course. The driver got out and opened the door for a fairly tall blonde-haired woman. She had a witty, yet no-nonsense air about her, which was expressed by the way the young man next to him both grinned and straightened his posture at her approach.

"Director Stewart," the man greeted, offering a crisp salute that she returned, though not without a small sigh.

"Afternoon, Mickey. Mind coming with me to give a briefing?" While she spoke with a completely civil and even friendly tone, Brian knew it was not a request.

"Not at all, ma'am," Mickey Smith replied. He glanced at him with a slightly apologetic smile and said, "I'm sure Amy or Rory will be back real soon."

As the black-haired man fell into step next to his boss, the woman remarked, "I heard Martha is seeing to those injured in the crash."

"Yeah, and a civilian hospital intern is assisting her."

"The Williams man?" Brian was straining to catch their conversation as they walked off now, desperate to hear more.

"That's right."

"Good. What of Captain Harkness?"

"Jack's already here."

"Hmph. Well, send him a couple of our men for backup before he tries to poke that thing with a stick."

Just as he was beginning to feel an outsider listening in to private jokes, he was rescued by Amy's return. "I found Rory, he's fine. You probably already knew that."

"Yes," he admitted, and the woman flashed a sheepish smile before it faded.

"You alright, Brian?"

"Not entirely. I just had a little chat with that Mickey chap. What exactly is going on, Amy?" The redhead's eyes darted away under his gaze and she bit her lip a moment.

"It's really a long story, Brian. We might as well start walking to the pavilion, cause it's going to take a while to finish. And I'm- I'm sorry." Amy began leading them back the way she'd just come, and Brian quietly observed her as she gathered her thoughts.

"Brian, remember when I was a little kid, and Rory and Mels were my only friends because everyone else thought I was crazy?" He blinked, his mind going back to those long years before, when people often said it was so sad that poor orphan Amelia- no, hang on, poor lonely Amelia with both parents- wait, he was confused.

"Er, yes. People did talk—but they exaggerated, Amy, you certainly aren't crazy."

She smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, Brian. But the point is, I got picked on and called names because I believed in an imaginary friend, the Raggedy Doctor."

Now that phrase did sound rather familiar to him. Brian often remembered his young son digging through his closet for blue button downs and ties that he hardly ever wore, grumbling under his breath that Amelia was making them play the Raggedy Doctor game again. He nodded to show the Scottish woman he understood.

"Well, the thing is…" she hesitated as they began climbing the hill to the pavilion. "He wasn't so imaginary."

"Sorry?" Brian asked, feeling as though he was missing something. And what did this even have to do with the alleged crashed spaceship?

"My friend. His name really was the Doctor, and the blue box I always drew was his time machine—and space ship. He came back, once when I was nineteen, and then again when I was twenty-one; the night before my wedding."

He'd come down with an illness shortly before the wedding and had been unable to attend, something he'd always regretted. But while he was beginning to see how this could tie into all this supposed extraterrestrial nonsense, it still hardly made sense.

"The Doctor offered to show me the Universe, and I accepted. At first, I did it because I was scared. I guess I sort of got cold feet. But then, when the Doctor found out I was getting married in the morning—"

"He brought me on board to travel with them," Rory's voice interrupted, and both Brian and Amy started. They'd almost made it to the top of the hill, only to be met by his son and another woman.

"Oh, Martha, I think your boss is here," Amy told the other woman. This so-called Martha nodded.

"Thanks, I best go report in. I'll, uh, leave you three to talk, then." He thought he caught the woman mouthing "Good luck" to the married pair, but chose not to acknowledge it. There were much more pressing concerns.

"Amy, Rory, are you honestly trying to tell me that the night before your wedding you flew off with a mad man in a spaceship to see the- the Universe? What's even out there to see?"

"I know it sounds insane, dad," Rory agreed. "But it's the truth. That's where we go when we're away most times, travelling."

"But that trip to Thailand—"

"More the entirety of space and time," his son amended, and he gaped.

"You can't be serious," he said stubbornly, even as the rational part of his brain told him the two had no reason to lie about all this. And that crashed spaceship…

"You've met him, by the way," Amy mentioned, and he turned to look at her, perplexed.

"Who?"

"The Doctor," she clarified, and for some unknown reason she was grinning just a bit. "This spring, our friend John Smith, remember? That was him. He's a thousand-some year-old alien, and yeah, he is a bit mad. In a good way."

True, that Smith character had been odd. But an alien? "I…this is quite a lot to take in," he heard himself say faintly, and the younger two grimaced.

"We know. And I'm sorry, dad, I never really thought…well, I never really was sure how to tell you. At least, not until this happened."

"And you're saying I've met an alien? An actual, living alien?"

"Yes, you have, Brian. It can be hard to believe at first, but I'm sure we'll be able to get you some good solid proof any time now." Amy nodded, very sure of herself.

"How's that?"

"He's bound to show up any minute. The Doctor always shows up when something like this happens."

"Plus we'll have whatever data UNIT's managed to collect," Rory added, and his eyes widened in some surprise.

"They give you access to that information?"

"Well sure, this is sort of what we do," Amy replied, and wasn't that something! His son and daughter-in-law, part-time alien consultants.

"I think I'm going to need to sit down somewhere," he decided, and Rory took hold of him gently by the arm.

"Of course. I'll, uh, find you a chair or something. Amy, I'll meet you there, alright?"

"Sure," she agreed, turning and heading for what looked like a mini-headquarters being set up on the green, not too far from the crash site. He and Rory walked in the opposite direction, returning to the entrance of the golf course.

"Here, this should do fine," Rory commented, guiding him to a bench. "Now I really should be going, but is there anything else you need?"

"No, no, I'm fine," he replied absently. What was the point in holding his son up when he wanted answers just as much?

"Alright, just come join us when you feel ready. Unless, er, you want to go home, which is fine, too, I can drive—"

"I'll just be a minute, Rory," he interrupted, and his son cleared his throat awkwardly, turning about stiffly and taking the same path as his wife. Brian settled himself on the bench, preparing for long, deep thinking.

How had everything changed so fast?

OoO

Nothing had changed. The Doctor, in fresh, dry shirtsleeves, trousers, and bowtie, frowned down at the console. He'd input the coordinates three times with the same result. Soon the girls would be done cleaning themselves up and return to the console room. With that thought in mind, he headed down the steps to the swing.

Soon lost in the technobabble of his own mind, the tinkering, and the sparking of wires, the Doctor was caught off guard when Jenny's face suddenly poked down, upside-down, to greet him.

"Hey, dad. Are we still in the Vortex?"

"Hm? What? Oh, yes. Yes Jenny, we are." He removed his goggles in order to be able to see her better, and just caught her face scrunching up in puzzlement.

"Why? I thought you wanted to head back to Earth."

"I did. I do, rather, but there was some minor glitch in the navigation controls or something. Should be fixed now." Putting away his tools, he rushed up the stairs to find Donna standing there as well. Jenny got up from the floor, giving him an uncertain look.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," he defended, pride wounded. "I mean, I just had to supersede some of the boundary mechanisms, boost some more power into the navigation panel, and—"

"Should you really be doing that?" Donna questioned, looking full-on skeptical.

He scoffed. "It's my TARDIS, I can do what I like."

"I think I'm going to check with the expert," the temp decided, and when she marched up the steps to the corridor, the Doctor made a face at her back. Honestly, were they all on his ship just to point out his flaws and question his judgment? It was either this, or stay stuck in the Void; might as well try something.

Just to spite her, he typed in the coordinates again, preparing them for takeoff. As a last precaution, he spun around to his daughter. "Hold on, Jenny," he warned before flipping the final lever.

He should have taken his own advice.

OoO

Amy jogged down the hill after Martha, catching up just as the female doctor entered the brand-new complex, presumably built by UNIT.

"Your boss isn't going to mind that we're here, is she?" She inquired of the other woman, wanting to make sure. As tenuous as their relations with Colonel Mace had been at times, the Ponds had always been sure at least that they would be included. But she'd never met the new director, Kate Stewart.

"She won't," Martha reassured. "Especially cause Rory's a primary witness; he'll probably be the most useful out of the lot.

"It's getting a bit ridiculous, though, yeah? It hasn't even been half a year," Amy joked, and the two chuckled as they stopped outside a door, Martha knocking.

"Come in," a woman's voice called, presumably Director Stewart, and so the black-haired woman showed her into the meeting room. She couldn't help standing in the doorway as she took in the somewhat odd sight; Mickey was sitting at the table with his superior at the head, as pre usual, but Kate Stewart was far from UNIT standard issue.

"Amy Williams, right? I've been told you often go by your maiden name, as well." The blonde got up from her seat, walking around to shake her hand, allowing her to see she was dressed in a shirt and jeans, a scarf wound around her neck. A long tan coat was draped over the director's chair as well. "I'm Kate Stewart, the head of scientific research at UNIT. It's good to finally meet these Ponds you two keep going on about." The last bit was obviously directed at the Smith-Jones pair, but Amy found herself grinning anyway. She liked this woman.

"Nice to meet you, too. Rory's on his way over, he'll just be a minute."

The other woman was nodding even as she returned to her seat, and the rest of them followed suit. "Good. Hopefully the field team will be back in time for that, but for now let's hear the results we do have. Mickey?"

"Right," the man agreed, opening up a folder with freshly printed data. She had to marvel a bit at the efficiency with which this organization could move at times of crisis. "Initial scans have shown that the ship is practically shut down, with perhaps the backup generators still giving off some power. That's really what kept it from dropping like a stone. We couldn't pick up any life forms, but it's hard to tell. There's a lot of interference, like there's some sort of energy shield blocking things. Any other scans would be a waste of time, I'm afraid."

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that," Kate sighed.

"Were you hoping to hear me say hello?" Amy turned around in her seat to see Jack standing in the doorway, smirking down at the director. Behind him stood her husband and none other than Gregory Jenkins, who appeared poised to knock on the door the American had chosen to simply open.

"Definitely not," the woman returned almost immediately. "Have a seat, gentlemen." The three men filed in. "To summarize, we're fairly certain the craft is an abandoned ship with only minimal power. What its purpose was or where it was from are still unknown, and something is interfering with or scans. What has the field team found out? 2nd Lieutenant?" She specified just as the Captain opened his mouth.

"Why him?" The immortal pouted.

"Because Gregory is polite. Well, Lieutenant?"

"We could discover no signs of what species might have used the craft or if any were onboard from the outside, ma'am," the young man began. "Everything appears to be sealed up except for a small forced exit."

"Exit?" Amy repeated, intrigued by the word choice.

"Yes, ma'am," her friend replied. "From the inside out."

"So someone was trying to escape the ship before it crashed," Martha theorized.

"Maybe that's what caused it to," Rory suggested.

"Well, we can't know for sure until we get a real look at the ship, including the inside," Kate stated. "That hole, Lieutenant Jenkins, I'm assuming it's—"

"Big enough for a person to pass through. I assemble a team and have them in before nightfall."

"Woah, take it easy there, Gregory. We're talking about the unknown," Jack remarked. "It'd be better to have someone like me taking that risk."

"Well, what happens when you do get in?" Mickey pointed out. "Somebody's got to take down whatever lingering defenses that ship has so we can dismantle it. I ought to be on this taskforce."

"Well if you're heading in there, mister, you're not doing it alone," Martha added. "That energy field might be masking signs of life. There could be people or other beings hurt in that ship, so I'll go, too."

"Martha, we can't both go," the female doctor's husband argued. "What about—"

"It's both of us or neither of us," she cut across firmly.

"If we need someone with medical experience, I could—" Rory started, but Jack held up a hand.

"No, better it's Martha, Rory. You're a civilian, she's at least been trained in combat. But I don't like the idea of either of you going in there," the Captain turned to the married couple with a frown.

"Look, it can't just be you, Jack—"

"I never said it would be anyone, and not today, at least," the director broke in at last, leveling them all with a stern gaze which morphed into a wry smile as they all sheepishly ducked their heads. "Yes, we have to decide on a team to go in, and yes we need people with the qualifications brought up. I'll take all of your recommendations into account and give you my decision in the morning. Is that fair?" There were nods all around the room, some more grudging than others.

"Do we really have to do this, though?" Amy couldn't help asking, and everyone looked at her. "I mean, I'm as keen on adventure as the next person, but we've got no clue what that is. Maybe we should…get some help figuring that out?"

She wasn't sure why she was hedging around the issue. Maybe because just stating it out in the open would make it more obvious, and in turn make her more uncomfortable. A spaceship was lying out in plain view on planet Earth, UNIT and Torchwood were swarming about, and now tensions were mounting as they geared up to take a crack at the mysterious thing. It sounded like an almost standard undertaking for them, with one major discrepancy.

Where was the Doctor?

Though she hadn't voiced the question, she could tell by looking around, it was on everyone else's mind, too.

"Unfortunately, no expert seems to be forthcoming," Kate spoke at last. "I can wait for as long as tomorrow morning, but after that we've got to act. That spacecraft is a potential danger to the planet. Hopefully we can take care of it with as little trouble as possible. That's all we can do now." She could see the conflict taking place in the older woman's mind through her eyes, and knew that she was being as reasonable as could be allowed for the situation. Still, it didn't satisfy Amy's concerns much.

"There are living spaces available on the base," the director went on to say. "If you're all planning to stay for the duration of this venture, then I suggest you make the necessary arrangements. I'll see you in the morning." With that, they all began to get up and depart.

"Good seeing you again, Gregory," Amy was finally able to properly greet her friend. As she embraced the other man, she could see Rory approach the UNIT director.

"Um, I'm not sure if he will, but my dad might also be staying here. Is that alright?"

"Of course."

Amy had let go of Gregory by now, and so was waiting for Rory with a raised eyebrow. Her husband shrugged as he walked up to her. "I don't know if he'll want to, but he's been pretty badly shaken…I sort of want to keep an eye on him."

"Good thinking," she acknowledged, feeling a bit bad for poor Brian sitting out on a bench. "We best go and get him then, yeah?"

"Yep."

So they headed back across the green once more, each doing their best not to let the anxiety get to them. Already they were running into obstacles and disagreements. Just what were they up against? And who would help them if they found it?

**Stopping the chapter there for now. Yes, I know, suspense. But I had to get most of the characters all together again, introduce Kate, bring Brian up to speed on the whole time-and-space-travel, and all that. Starting next chapter, though, the real fun begins. And speaking of fun, I am super super super excited for "The Bells of St. John". Saturday can't come fast enough! Thanks so much for your feedback already, I really appreciate it. Thank you for reading, and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, so ended on a bit of a cliffhanger last chapter, but I'm hoping that wasn't too bad. Now we're really going to get into the story. Thanks for all the feedback so far, guys, and enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Three**

Donna was halfway down the corridor and calling out, "River!" when it happened. The whole place jerked violently, sending her crashing into a wall. "Oi!" She barked, both in irritation and sheer surprise, but it didn't let up there. She was thrown about like a ragdoll this way and that, struggling to stumble to her feet or find a grip on something. And judging by the yells coming from the console room, it wasn't just her.

"Dad!" Jenny screamed, and the TARDIS shook even more.

"Here!" A hand was thrust into her line of sight and Donna looked up to see River clinging to the wall. She took her outstretched hand and let the other woman help her up.

"He wanted to get to Earth, but the TARDIS was being picky or something, so he messed with it!" She shouted in order to be heard. Though they were standing barely two feet from each other, the noise all around them was so loud. From the rumbling, groaning, and sparking of the console to a strange sound like wind. She thought it had to be wind, for her hair was whipping about her face, and River's too. But why would there be wind in a spaceship?

"Typical," the blonde woman replied, nodding in the direction of the control room to indicate they should head that way. Donna was in front, inching along and clinging for dear life. They had to stop several times as the ship seeming rolled and flipped, which was frightening. She'd never seen the TARDIS do something like this before.

But when she finally edged back into the console room, she was met with a sight even more shocking and terrible.

Jenny was clinging to the control panel for dear life, her legs either falling upward or slamming back down into the floor as they rolled. But the girl kept turning her head with a stricken look from the controls to the door.

The source of the wind—the door had flown open to reveal what she could only describe as a tunnel in the clouds- clouds that flashed with color and fire that practically roared. And the Doctor was hanging completely out the doors, a tenuous grip on the doorframe the only thing keeping him attached to the ship.

"Jenny, stay where you are!" He was ordering. "It's safer—woah!" The ship did another flip, and when it turned right-side up again one of his hands had come off of the door, leaving him dangling by four fingers and a thumb.

"Doctor!" River charged past her down the stairs and threw herself to the floor in front of the open police box doors. The archeologist seized his free hand, fighting against gravity, wind, and the uncontrollable path the TARDIS was charting to pull him in.

"River, no!" He shouted, as the woman braced herself against the doorframe. "You've got to land us! Never mind me—"

"I will not let you fall into the Vortex!" She yelled back fiercely. "You'd be lost forever!"

"And now we both will be if I do!" He was right; if River lost her balance or he let go of the doorframe with his other hand, he'd pull her out with him for she was holding onto nothing else.

"Then you had better hold on tight, honey!"

Donna looked about, desperate to find something that could get them out of this horrifying situation. The Doctor and River were both in danger of tumbling out of the ship, she was hanging onto a wall, and Jenny was—Jenny!

"Doctor, what do we have to do to land?" She called.

"What?"

Jenny's eyes widened in realization and she worked to get back to her feet. "Tell me what to do, dad, tell me! I can land her!" Her fingers were already hovering over a button.

"Yes, that one there!" River was craning her neck around in order to see, and it was clear the other Time Lord was struggling to leverage himself back up so that he could as well.

"Ok, now the green switch! Then turn the knob next to it four times—"

"Three!"

"Four to account for the outside passenger, Professor Song, do you want my legs turned into transmatter?!"

"Er, shall it turn it three and a half?" Jenny suggested, understandably becoming nervous and a bit more hesitant under the pressure.

"Oh, just turn it four, it can't hurt!" Donna advised, her arms screaming in pain from being stretched out and having to support her whole weight for so long.

"You've got to stabilize her enough for landing, Jenny, so put the zigzag plotter on full!"

"Er…the zigzag plotter?" The blonde girl repeated uncertainly.

"You don't know where the zigzag plotter is? Your _grandmother_ knows where the zigzag plotter is!" He cried incredulously.

"I don't appreciate you using that tone when you talk about my mother!" River reproached.

"Yes well, I'm sorry, dear, but Amy Pond can't drive!" He snapped.

"I am literally the only thing keeping you alive right now, you realize that?"

"Is this really the time for this?" Donna demanded.

Jenny, who had actually been doing something, carefully shuffled around the console. "Does that mean it's the one by the ketchup and mustard?"

"_Yes_!" The married pair confirmed.

Jenny pulled, and with an unbearably loud whooshing noise and a great thud, the final stopped. Donna shook her hair out of her face and looked to see that they had emerged out of the cloud tunnel—the Vortex—and were floating in space, stationary. The Doctor was scrambling to get back inside and River hooked her arms around and hauled him up into a desperate kiss that he feverishly returned.

Before she could think to clear her throat or tell them to knock it off or something, they had parted and leapt to their feet, racing to the console. River yanked the monitor over as the Doctor paused to pull his daughter into a tight hug and kiss her forehead. "You were amazing, Jenny!"

"Really? But I messed up," the girl protested, glancing away in shame.

"Your father's right," River disagreed, "you saved us all. But Doctor, look at this." He went around to consult the monitor screen with her, and Donna descended the stairs at last, coming to a stop next to Jenny.

"They're both right, you know," she told the youngest Time Lord, "I mean face it, we'd still be stuck in the Vortex if it weren't for you. Flying a TARDIS has got to be hard, but you did the best you could. You're brilliant."

"Thanks, Donna. But you were the one that gave me the idea. I was standing right there that whole time while dad was—I was just so scared. I still have dreams every night that this isn't real, or it is and something takes him away again."

Donna opened her arms and embraced the girl. "It's ok, Jenny. I do, too, sometimes. Like, I'll dream that I'm at home and temping day in and day out, going for coffee with Nerys of all people, and never even thinking there's anything wrong with that. I dream I can't even remember this, like I've forgotten it all again. But then I wake up and you're all here."

"Yes, all here and still stuck," the Doctor grumbled, and Donna released Jenny to place a hand on her hip.

"What do you mean 'stuck'?" She questioned.

He sighed, running a hand through his floppy bangs in frustration. "I mean we're on the complete opposite side of the galaxy. The TARDIS won't take us to Earth. But why?"

"Is it really the TARDIS, dad?"

"I don't know," he replied with gritted teeth, and she could tell he was annoyed at himself for not having all the answers.

"We could always try changing the coordinates slightly," River suggested, already working the controls. "Pick a different location or a different year, just to see if it's just this specific destination or an even bigger problem."

"I suppose we could give it a try," he reasoned. "First, let's head back to Venice. I'm sure the Old Girl's got a live chicken in here somewhere." He left the room, presumably on the hunt for poultry.

"He just needs a minute to think," River explained. "He's got loads of theories, I'm sure, but we'll have to test them out one by one."

"Are you worried, River? Something's keeping us from getting to Amy and Rory," Donna commented. She knew the curly-haired woman had both a sense of respect for and a need to protect her parents. She for one was growing more than a bit nervous. As long as they couldn't land in the Ponds' yard, she was fairly certain they wouldn't be able to land in hers. How long had it been since she stopped in on her mother and granddad?

"We can't afford to panic, Donna," was all that the professor offered. "Not yet."

"I'm sure they're alright," Jenny attempted to reassure them both, and she did appreciate the effort. It still didn't keep her from hoping that they fixed this soon.

OoO

Kate sighed, looking around the table at the people gathered to hear her decision. Each had their reasons for being on edge, and she understood that, but there were reasons why working with an emotionally charged group was a bad idea.

"So, I've been informed that the ship has not moved or altered form in any way over the night and that no attempt at communication has been made from within. Still, the force field remains active and will block any attempt to dismantle the ship. Therefore, I have reviewed everything that has been said and have made my choice on who will make up the task force sent inside. Please be aware I picked each person carefully, and it still weighs heavily on my mind." She made eye contact with each of them, wanting to be sure they all understood.

"Very well, let's begin. First, taking point will be Captain Harkness." Two seats to her left the American grinned, giving her a quick salute. "He will lead the team and his word will be final _unless_ I state otherwise. In spite of your abilities, Captain, I trust you will act with care as your fellow team members will be disadvantaged if they have to stand guard over your body while in combat."

"Read you loud and clear, Kate," the man replied, and though his tone was cheery, his eyes were serious, indicating he would do as she asked.

"As Technical Head I would have Mickey Smith, due to his qualifications, familiarity with working with the Captain, and ability to remain calm under pressure." The other man nodded, accepting the position. Beside him, his wife tensed and Kate steeled herself. This was where things would get difficult.

"There for both backup and to act as medic, I have chosen Dr. Jones—"

"Kate, please!" Mickey objected immediately, while Martha said at the same time,

"Thank you, director, I accept."

"Martha, you can't!" He turned to his spouse now, both shocked and angry.

"And why not, Mr. Smith?" The woman questioned. "I've been in plenty of dangerous situations before, with and without you."

"Yeah, but things are different now, what with Mandy and Michelle. We can't _both_ put our lives on the line!"

"And what happens if you die in there and I could have stopped it?" The female doctor argued. "If it's really so risky, I'm not letting you leave them without a father!"

"I agree, cause I think it's a bad idea that _either_ of them go, let alone both," Jack interjected. "They've got young kids, Kate!"

"So do plenty other members of this organization, Captain, but the fact remains that they are the two most qualified for the job," she stated firmly. "If I send in people who are less experienced and fail, and as a result that ship starts doing damage to the Earth at large, then I have failed as a director. Now, I am merely _requesting_ that these two accept the task. I would hope that they can come to an agreement together!"

Everyone was silent for a long moment as the Smith-Jones pair looked at each other, speaking in a language that only they knew through gestures and eyes.

Mickey sighed in defeat at last, saying, "We understand, Director Stewart, and we both accept."

Jack was frowning, but Amy Williams offered her own opinion. "It's probably for the best, Mickey. You and Martha are a great team, and you'll look out for each other. I know I feel safest when Rory's around." Her husband took her hand that was resting on the table.

She waited for any further comments, and when none came, continued, "Taking the rear and being charged primarily with _protecting the medic_," she stressed these words and met Mickey's gaze in order to bolster his confidence in this decision, "Will be 2nd Lt. Jenkins."

"Yes ma'am," the young man agreed, easily the least stressful out of the group.

"Are we all clear on this?" She inquired, making one last check. "Good. Now I suggest we prepare." She led the way out of the conference room and into what she liked to think of as a modernized, more effective, and ultimately more useful armory.

"Each of you will be armed, whatever weapon you can use most accurately will suffice. You will also have an earpiece, which will allow you to communicate with each other if you get separated, and to communicate with us throughout the entire mission, provided that the energy field does not interfere with the frequency. I have been assured that it will not."

An assistant began passing out the earpieces and helping the four to put them in place. She then grabbed one of four packs hanging on the wall. "These contain extra supplies and equipment. Some nonperishable food is included, which I recommend you ration." They each nodded and she began handing off the packs. "They have been personalized as to what I believe you would require. Extra ammunition and pieces, a medical kit, a laptop should you require a secondary system, so on and so forth."

Each of them equipped and ready, the group moved outside.

"Kate," Mickey quickened his pace to come up next to her. "Listen, I'm not backing out, but I just want to know—Mandy and Michelle, I want to be sure they'll be ok while we're gone. Francine has to work, too."

"We could watch them when she's busy," Rory Williams offered, having walked up to join them. "And that way they could check in with you, if they can."

Mickey smiled gratefully. "Thanks, mate."

"It's no problem, really."

"Director Stewart!" They were halfway between the base and the ship when a rather familiar journalist came running forward.

"Miss Smith," she greeted the family friend, both glad and yet amused that the older woman was addressing her formally in front of her men. She wasn't big on pride and titles, but she knew the importance of respect in the chain of command. "I assume you want a statement from UNIT."

"You are correct," the brunette affirmed. "I think it would be best, seeing as I am the only reporter that's been allowed through your organization's barricade."

She had to smirk at that. Such loyal people she had working for her. "We have yet to identify the origins of the crashed object, but are sending in team in to investigate. The public has no need to be alarmed; we are confident the issue will be resolved shortly."

By the determined expressions on the faces of the task force, she could tell they felt the same. Sarah Jane took in the sight of the four wearing packs and earpieces, and her eyes widened. "Do be careful, all of you!"

"Thanks, Sarah Jane," Jack replied with a smile.

"We'll be listening in, you know. Making sure you're alright," she could hear Amy saying to Martha and Gregory behind her.

"Thank you, ma'am," the soldier responded, the warmth in his tone being what really indicated the friendship they shared.

"Let us know if…well," Martha finished somewhat lamely, and Kate couldn't help the same feeling of uncertainty and disappointment coming over her from yesterday.

She'd never met him, but she'd heard so many stories from her father…where was the Doctor? Was she doing something wrong?

They finally stopped a short distance from the unknown craft, where a ladder had already been placed for the four to reach the rip in the ship's side. They turned to face her one final time, standing in a line, and she observed them each. Calm, silent, confident, and ready.

"This is off the record," she noted to the journalist, who nodded. "You know the objective of this mission: find the command center for this ship and shut it down, then locate the fastest possible exit. No detours or exploration is necessary; leave that for the dismantling team. This is a matter of security, not investigation." It pained her to say it, curious as she was and wanting to enrich UNIT's knowledge of alien technology. But the safety of these four—and the planet—rested on her shoulders. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am!" All four responded promptly.

"Very well, we'll return immediately to base. Once you have entered the ship, do not go on for another ten minutes or until we make first contact. If you hear nothing from us after ten minutes, assume communication is impossible."

The Captain started up the ladder, climbing swiftly to the top and staring down. "It's not too much of a drop, but we could use some rope." He pulled a line out of his pack, tying it securely around the ladder. Then swinging both legs over, the immortal man went hand-over-hand down the rope and into the darkness. Mickey followed quickly after, then Martha, and lastly Gregory. The solider stopped at the top, took his own mental measurements, and began untying the rope.

"You'll be needing that, sir, and I can make the jump." The soldier carefully lowered himself in until he was hanging on to either side of the tear. Then he dropped. She had to assume that the energy field absorbed most sound as well, as they did not hear him make impact with any type of floor.

"To the base," she ordered, and the remaining three nodded, turning back the way they came. All were anxious to test the connection to the earpieces, though she wondered if any were as anxious as her. This was her mission; if anything went wrong, if she had made the wrong decision…it was her fault.

She hoped the conspicuous absence of a certain Time Lord was not a sign.

**Stopping there for the chapter. Next chapter we'll finally get a look inside the mysterious craft! Also, the TARDIS Team will be trying to figure out just what is wrong with their own ship. Thanks so much for reading, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alrighty, on with the fic! I'm glad you guys are as excited as I am, and I'm hoping it lives up to expectations. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Four**

The first thing he did upon touching down was to remove his torch from a side pocket of his pack. Holding both it and his pistol ready, Jack turned in a slow circle, sweeping the area. It was rather unremarkable; a corridor that seemed to curve around both ways, likely in a circuit around the ship. The ceiling was quite low, and most everything was metallic gray.

"All clear!" He called up, lifting his head to see Mickey already halfway down and Martha not far behind. The Captain couldn't help rolling his eyes. As much as he respected his friends' desire not to leave him to the danger alone, they should have waited. He saw the young UNIT soldier, Gregory Jenkins, looking down at them all.

The man waited for Martha to touch down, Mickey reaching out an arm to steady her footing, before stating as he untied the rope, "You'll be needing that, sir, and I can make the jump." He nodded, knowing that in the sliver of light he was standing in, the younger man would see. Soon enough, the rope dropped down, and he began rolling it up as the 2nd Lieutenant landed in a crouch after it.

"Ok," he spoke at last, squinting around at them all in the dim lighting. "Judging by the shape of the ship I would say it doesn't matter much which direction we pick first. What's important is that we find an intersecting hallway that will take us inward."

"Right," Mickey agreed, and Martha and Gregory both nodded, though the woman glanced over her shoulder.

"Not even the auxiliary lighting is up," she noted, retrieving her own electric torch.

"I guess whatever power is left is being fed into that outer energy field," Mickey mused, and no one brought up the slightly hopeful tint to his voice. If this ship was completely dead on the inside, this mission would be as simple as they could ask for.

"Director to Task Force, can you read me?" Kate's voice sounded in his ear, and he nearly started. Jack didn't think he scared easily, but the other woman's voice seemed unnaturally loud compared to the hushed tones they had been using.

"Affirmative, Director," he responded, cutting to the chase for once. Now wasn't really the time for fooling around.

"Can you tell me what we're looking at, Captain?"

"To be honest, Kate…not much. We've entered one of the outer corridors, so we just need to find a way into the main areas. There's not much decoration or anything to show who might have owned this."

"I see," she stated noncommittally. "Report in once anything changes."

"Will do," he assured, dropping his hand from the earpiece and turning to look at his team members.

"So then, sir, you lead, with the Smith-Jones' in between, and I follow after?" Gregory suggested, a torch in one hand and a pistol in the other.

"That'll work nicely," he replied, turning to his left and readying his stance, taking slow, deliberate steps forward. Jack could tell easily that the others were following, for all the noise that existed was their footsteps and breathing. Gradually as he craned his neck around, trying to get just that extra glimpse beforehand of what was to come next around the bend, the natural light faded out, until at last the only light was from their four torches, faint-white and wavering.

His head titled as far forward as possible, he caught sight of their goal before truly reaching it: an intersecting hall that cut straight in. He couldn't see what it led to, as the torchlight did not extend nearly far enough, but it was their best bet.

Jack motioned everyone closer, gesturing down the corridor. "We could keep going and look for another one, but I think we might as well take this first one here. They're all bound to be the same."

"You're probably right, and why waste time?" Martha added.

"Alright then. Torches high, I want to try at least to see where that goes." They all raised them, and yet it hardly seemed to make a difference.

"It's like that's not even shadow," Mickey murmured softly, "Like it's just swallowing the light."

"Don't crack up on me already, Mickey Mouse," he joked, but the easy chuckle he'd been going for sounded much more nervous than he'd intended.

"If it's swallowing the light, it must be swallowing the sound, too," the other man's wife commented, and he barely resisted groaning out loud. Not Martha, too. "Haven't you noticed? There was birdsong and- and _life_ going on out there," she pointed back the way they'd come, "But as soon as we started out it just…vanished."

"It's probably nothing, ma'am," Gregory attempted to persuade, "Just the energy field."

"I suppose," she consented.

"Great," Jack cut in, adjusting the earpiece once again. "Kate, we've found a way in."

"Good work," she congratulated.

"You all alright?" Amy's voice came over the communicator, and he felt himself grin.

"Just fine, Amy, we're all fine." Calming somewhat from hearing the two women's voices, Jack started forward once again. He took one step into the new corridor—

And jerked back as a chorus of giggles erupted around them, the pitter-patter of little feet following behind.

"What the hell?" He couldn't keep from exclaiming.

"Were those kids' voices?" Mickey questioned, looking about wildly.

"Had to be—Jack, try that again," Martha requested urgently, and he tapped the metal floor inches in front of him with his foot. Another round of giggles, just the same as before.

"Sensor activated laughter?" Mickey was trying to work it out aloud, sounding as bewildered as he felt.

"Why kids, though?" Gregory pointed out, but he was at a loss for answers.

"There're worse things than disembodied laughter, I suppose," he shrugged, walking forward and ignoring the third set of childish laughter. As he edged carefully down the corridor, he was able to guess that the unseen children were playing a game of sorts, or simply running around. No words, just bouts of bubbling laughter interspersed with their light, quick footsteps. Now they were in amongst the darkness, and he was thankful that at least their torches still worked, and he could just make out a door.

Jack reached out a hand, gently pressing it to the cold metal. Instantly, all the strange, unexplainable noises were stilled, and it suddenly seemed eerily quiet.

"What happened?" Martha asked from behind him, and he turned a bewildered face back to her briefly.

"No idea. Hey Kate?" He addressed the question into his earpiece. "You wouldn't happen to be playing some sort of weird, creepy soundtrack, would you?"

"No," the UNIT director replied after a moment, both the confusion and worry evident in her tone. "Why?"

"Never mind for now, we'll let you know if it's an issue," he dismissed. After all, no sense in bothering with it if it was gone, at least not right now. "Anyway, we've found a door. It feels pretty solid, but I think we could possibly force it open—"

"Hang on, mate," Mickey interrupted, and he turned around to see the other man examining a little circular panel to the side of the door. "I think this might be motion-activated, like the floor probably was." He passed his hand over it and the circle glowed a bland yellow color for an instant. Then the door slid open to reveal a second door behind it.

Well, door was generous. It was made of thick metal bars. These, too, slid out, and Jack motioned them quickly through. As soon as Gregory had passed through the now open archway, the bars clanged shut behind him and the metal door slid back into place. The echo of the slamming metal hung in the air long after.

He looked around at all their faces, wide-eyed and slightly paler. He had the feeling his was likely similar. "Kate," he spoke once again, licking his lips before continuing. "We've got through the door—they're motion-activated, no key required. But…"

"But what, Captain?"

"I think we're beginning to get an idea of this ship's purpose. There are bars on the door, Director."

"Are you suggesting that we've come into contact with a crashed prison-ship, Captain?" There was no shaking or fear in her voice, but still he had a feeling the woman was probably thinking along the same lines as the rest of them.

"Yes, Director."

"Jack," Martha touched his arm softly, and he snapped his gaze in her direction. He could see even in the sparse light that she looked troubled. "If this is a prison-ship, why did we hear children laughing?"

His throat went somewhat dry. "I'm- I'm not sure. We'll figure it out, Martha." He tried to smile, but she did not look any less worried.

"We're going to have to figure this out first," Mickey spoke up, and he turned to see his friend and the Lieutenant standing in front of two doors. "Which way do we go now?"

OoO

He'd stormed off again, sometime between dropping off the prized chicken and their landing on Barcelona—the planet, not the city. Jenny frowned and took off down a random corridor, hoping she'd get lucky and just happen upon him. She knew how unlikely that was; her dad knew his own ship far better than she did.

But perhaps she had a little bit more than luck on her side, for as she took a turn down one of the winding corridors, an encouraging sort of hum seemed to resonate from the walls. Bolstered, she took a few more steps in that direction, pausing in front of a door. When she was met with silence, she continued to the next one. She went on like this for another few minutes until at last her hand hovered over an ornate doorknob and the TARDIS lights dimmed up and then down.

"Thanks," she chirped, pulling open the door. She stepped into a library—not the main one, which she already knew how to get to, but a smaller one. She wondered if it, too, was a more private one, but thought that the ship might not have led her here if that were the case. At any rate, she felt she might as well complete the search for her father.

"Dad?" She called, raising her voice to ensure he would hear it, even if he was on the other side of the rows of books.

His wild mop of hair poked out from one of the aisles, looking somewhat surprised to see her standing there. "Jenny, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," she replied simply, walking the rest of the way to him and plopping down beside him on a couch. He'd tucked himself away in a corner with some large, dusty tome. "What are you doing?"

"Ohh, trying to take my mind off things, I suppose," he sighed, shutting the book and laying it aside on a lamp table.

"Off the TARDIS not being able to land on Earth when we want it to?" He nodded, and she pressed, "Is it working?"

"No," he shook his head, a chagrined expression on his face, "not really."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out," she stated confidently, and a small smile came to his face.

"Thank you, Jenny." The smile faded from his face as he looked down at her. "I'm sorry, though. I must be no fun right now." An idea seemed to occur to him as he suggested, "Why don't you go out and explore, eh? Take Donna with you—I know you two wanted to see an alien planet anyway."

As tempting as the offer was, she still shook her head. "It won't be any fun if I know you're in here just thinking about it. Besides, I'm worried, too- I probably wouldn't even notice the dogs with no noses."

This at least got a chuckle out of him. "Well, how about this. A deal: no more adventuring until we've solved this. That ought to get this stupid old brain of mine working."

They both laughed at this and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Hm, daft maybe, but not stupid."

"It's all the same when you reach my age, I'm afraid." In spite of his disagreeing words he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her just that little bit closer to him in a one-armed hug. She felt his chest and shoulders rise and fall with the intake and release of a large breath. "Still, enough about me. This ship isn't going to pilot itself back to Earth."

He stood and she did with him, allowing her father to guide her out of the special little library. "Dad, we're not going to boost the navigation panel or, er—"

"Course not. As much as River loves to point out my every piloting flaw, at least give me some credit. Am I really that likely to make the same mistake again?" He looked at her expectantly.

"Well, no."

"Exactly. I may leave the brakes on, I may not use the blue boringers often enough, I may not change the bulb regularly, I may not answer my—that's it!"

She'd been settling in at his side, content to listen to a long, rambling tirade on their way back to the console room, and so jerked back into awareness. "What is?"

"If all is well, the answer to our little mystery. Come on!" He removed his arm from around her to instead grasp her hand, breaking into a run and pulling her along behind him for the rest of the way. Jenny could only try to guess what it was that had her father so impatient to get back to the control room and what idea she'd unintentionally given him.

OoO

The four of them sat staring down at the little communicator placed on the table. The silence in the room was heavy for a moment before Director Stewart leaned forward, holding down one of the buttons and speaking again. "Have you found anything to verify that, Captain? A cell, a- a prisoner, something?"

"Not yet, all we've got right now is a fork in the road," the immortal man's voice replied, and Rory frowned. That was discouraging. So many uncertainties so soon?

"Well, we did hear voices," Martha spoke for the first time.

"Voices?" The scientific head repeated, sitting up straighter in her chair.

"Martha, we don't even know if those were real—" Jack was dismissing, but the female doctor interrupted him.

"We all heard them, Jack. It couldn't have been imaginary," she snapped before seeming to collect herself as she informed them, "When we entered the second corridor, we could hear laughing…children laughing. And their footsteps."

"Children?" Sarah Jane repeated softly, an almost horrified look coming to her face.

"Did you see any?" The blonde woman looked perturbed.

"No, no we didn't," it was Mickey's turn to reply, "and they stopped once we reached the first door. They could've just been some kind of prerecorded thing, for whatever reason."

Rory exchanged a worried look with his wife. Neither of them really liked the idea that their friends were hearing things. Or if they weren't, what the implications of what they'd heard implied.

"Then I suggest you keep an eye out," Kate was saying, about all she could really.

"Well what do we do about the two doors?" Jack finally steered the conversation away from the disturbing topic. "Any particular direction we should be heading at this point?"

"Do they both point inward?"

"Yeah."

The woman rubbed at her temples. "Then I suppose for now we can't know if there is a 'right' door, can we?"

"If we wanted to try both, I could go a hundred paces or so down each, to see where they lead," Gregory offered.

"Unacceptable. Avoid splitting up at any cost," Kate stated firmly. "Lieutenant, you are to stay with Dr. Jones under any circumstances, clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's not a half-bad idea," Jack countered, "I mean, we could try one way as a group and see if we like it."

"Very well."

"We're taking the right fork," the Captain announced, and again they waited.

"It sounds like that place is a maze," Amy muttered quietly.

"They'll be able to get back out," he took hold of her hand and traced the back of it with his thumb. "They just have to keep their wits about them."

"Ah, no good, Kate. This one slopes down."

"Slopes?" Sarah Jane echoed and the director obligingly repeated her question into the communicator.

"Yeah, it's a steady decline," the Captain confirmed.

"They probably wouldn't keep the control center in the basement," Mickey clarified. "We picked the wrong one."

"I'm turning us around," Jack decided and there was another pause.

"Captain, Director, it won't open," Gregory was the next to speak, and Rory's eyebrows rose.

"What do you mean, 2nd Lieutenant?" The director demanded.

"I'm moving my hand over the panel like before, ma'am, and it's lighting up yellow. But nothing's happening. It won't open back up."

"The bars will make it too hard to force open," Rory realized with dawning dread.

"They're trapped!" Amy exclaimed, one hand flying up to her mouth.

"Not- not entirely," Sarah Jane hastened to dispute, but the tremble to her voice made it sound less convincing. "They can keep moving forward."

"If you can't go back the way you came then continue on," Kate instructed, but it was clear how shaken she was by this new revelation by the way her face had paled. "It has to slope back upward at some point."

"Right," Jack agreed, but they could hear the underlying tension to his voice.

Once again there was nothing from the communicator. The UNIT director glanced at them all a moment before requesting, "Would you all mind leaving the conference room for a moment? I'm afraid I need some time to think—I will of course send for you if something happens."

"We don't mind at all, Kate," the investigative journalist was quick to reassure, patting the younger woman on the arm as she stood up. Rory and Amy followed suit. Not really knowing the blonde very well yet, he chose not to speak.

"They'll be fine. Nothing's happened," Amy said for them both, and the other woman afforded her a wan smile, the unspoken 'yet' hanging in the air between them.

"Thank you. I'm sorry if this seems rude- please, grab a bite to eat while you're out."

They nodded and all three filed from the conference room. "I'd better check on dad," he noted, glancing with some surprise at his watch to find that quite some time had already passed.

"Is your father here, Rory/" Sarah Jane inquired with polite interest, and he nodded. "I think I shall accompany you, then."

They made their way to the mini-mess hall, filled with both the specialized troops UNIT had kept, like Gregory, after the change in command and other personnel, likely scientists or researchers. Their friend seemed quite comfortable in this environment, unlike his father who sat alone on a bench, picking at the food on his plastic tray.

"Why didn't they just drive another trailer in here?" Amy questioned the brunette as they approached Brian.

"Oh, that's for missions that they think will either require mobility or will take a short time," she explained. "Kate is also more interested in being prepared for everything; I'm sure she's having scans run of that energy field 24/7."

"Dad!" he called as they had nearly reached him. His father looked up, blinking in surprise at both them and the unfamiliar woman with them.

"Rory, Amy, how is everything going with the, er, spaceship? And who is this?"

"Dad, this is Sarah Jane Smith, she's an investigative journalist and our friend. Sarah Jane, this is my dad Brian Williams," he introduced, and the older woman smiled in greeting, sticking her hand out to shake.

"Glad to meet you, Brian."

"You as well."

"Things are going…alright," Amy finally answered the man's other question. "There's a team going in to shut it off from the inside so they can take it apart, then they'll get it off your golf course." She smiled to go along with the simple explanation, but his father's expression remained serious.

"Yes, but I saw that man—Mickey, wasn't it? He went down there. Is that safe?"

Amy glanced uncomfortably at him and Rory struggled to find the right words. "He's been trained for that kind of thing, dad. Um, he can- he'll be alright."

"There was a woman, too. I don't remember her name, but she's his wife, isn't she?" His dad looked between the three of them in open concern, even though he'd only met the Smith-Jones' for a handful of minutes.

"Yeah, and they're- they're um, looking out for each other, ok?" Amy sat next to his father, smiling gently. "Nothing's happened," she repeated her earlier words.

Rory shifted on his feet awkwardly, not meeting anyone's eyes. But his head snapped back up again as his wife's mobile ringtone broke through the tense moment. Almost bewildered, she reached into her pocket, retrieving the device and bringing it up to her ear.

"Hello?" She listened for half a second before her eyes widened and her breath caught. "Doctor?"

**I'm cruel. I know, I know. But at last, everybody's going to be on the same page! That's all next chapter, of course. So for now, thanks for reading and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Took a bit of a writing break, sorry guys. But I'm back with another update, and I'm glad so many of you are excited to see where this goes! On to the chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Five**

"Are you sure, Donna?" River asked one more time, hand hovering over a lever on the console.

"Oh, sure I'm sure," the other woman replied. "I'm not much in the mood for Barcelona while this is happening. Take us back to the Vortex."

She did so, the transition under her guidance much smoother than usual, and she was thankful for that. Despite their earlier crisis, there didn't appear to be anything mechanically wrong with the TARDIS. They were still safe aboard the ship.

"We're in the same boat, you and me," the temp said in a quieter voice. "We can't get back to our families until this is solved."

"_Part_ of our families," River corrected, offering the redhead a smile. She returned it before sighing.

"Still worried about mum and Gramps. As for the other part, I'm worried about him." Donna jerked a thumb towards the corridor her husband had stormed down some time ago, snapping irritably that he wanted to be left alone a while.

"He's in a mood," was the only excuse she could give.

"Yeah. It's just- he doesn't do well not being able to get to Earth. I'll never forget when we couldn't follow it to the Medusa Cascade. He just stepped back from the console and hung his head…I've never seen him look so defeated."

Not quite able to meet the other woman's solemn gaze, she stated, "The TARDIS or Jenny will have him up again soon. Possibly both." She did her best not to dwell on Donna's story.

"I still can't believe how lucky we got, Jenny finding us," the red-haired woman accepted the change of topic with a warm smile. "He _adores_ her."

"He's not the only one." Though not her own biologically, Jenny was all River had ever wanted in a daughter, whenever she'd seriously considered the idea of children. A perfect blend of her father's childish whimsy and her practicality, his grim determination and her rebellious nature. And when he proved too stubborn to listen to his own wife—for his own good, almost always—he softened at the slightest word from the blonde girl.

Because Jenny was so very different from either of them in one single way: despite her years, despite her travels, she was still _good_.

That was why she wasn't completely caught off guard to hear running footsteps approaching. What did surprise her was what the other two were saying.

"Come on, Jenny!"

"Dad, wait! What is 'it'?"

Her impossibly mad man raced into the control room, Jenny hot on his heels, and practically vaulted the stairs, landing at the control panel. Instead of piloting the ship, however, he reached for the telephone.

"Doctor, what are you—" she started, absolutely perplexed, but he held up a finger, using the other hand to dial.

"Not now, River, I'm making the most important phone call of my life." Jenny simply shrugged beside him, so they had to wait, Donna crossing her arms and frowning.

He merely grinned right back, eyes lighting up in joy at the sound of someone's voice on the other end. A rather familiar voice…

"Amy!" The Doctor greeted cheerily. "Yes, yes it's me."

"Doctor!" Her mother shouted, this time loud enough for even her to hear, and he winced.

"Yes, Pond. What have I said about inside voices?" The Scottish woman was speaking again, but River couldn't quite make it out. "Well I'm in the TARDIS. I'm calling you from the TARDIS." He paused again to listen.

"Doctor—" she and Donna both began, but he had already resumed talking.

"Yes, River's here. Yes, Donna and Jenny, too. We're all here."

"Doctor, are they ok?" She pressed and he nodded, acknowledging her question.

"Listen, Amy—are you and Rory alright? Wilf and Sylvia?" He hastened to add at Donna's silent prompting.

A moment later, he showed them all a thumbs up and River let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her parents were alright…whatever problems they were up here weren't because her parents were in danger. Their families were safe.

And they could communicate! Perhaps this could help them land, or at least explain why they couldn't.

"I've got a bit of a funny question for you, Pond," the Time Lord was saying, clearly thinking the same as her. "Has anything _odd_ happened on Earth lately?" He listened a moment before his face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Running out of patience for this one-sided conversation, River flipped a switch, putting the call on speaker, which pleased Donna and Jenny.

Her mother scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me, Raggedy Man. 'Has anything odd happened'—seriously?"

"Mother, what are you talking about?" She interjected before her husband could retort.

"Wait, you really don't know?"

"That's why we're asking," Jenny replied with a laugh.

"Oh. Well, I thought you would have heard by now. It's all over the news—"

"What is, mum?" She questioned, cutting to the chase.

"A spaceship crashed into the Leadworth golf course," was the simple explanation.

"Oh my God!" Donna exclaimed.

"An entire spaceship?" Jenny asked.

"In Leadworth?" The Doctor repeated, quite doubtful. At the look she sent him, he continued with more mature questions. "What sort of spaceship? Was anyone hurt?"

"We don't know and no. Nobody came out of the ship, either." her mum responded matter-of-factly.

"Well, what's it look like?" He tried with some frustration.

"Big and gray," Amy returned, clearly just as annoyed. She sighed and said, "Just come to Leadworth and look at it yourself."

"Sorry, can't really do that at the moment," he informed her.

"What?"

"It won't let us land there. Takes us everywhere else," Donna clarified.

"Why's it doing that?" The other redhead asked.

"I don't know, she won't listen to me," the Time Lord snapped.

She reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. "Doctor, it might not be the TARDIS. Maybe something about this ship is interfering with us landing."

"Well, there is a sort of energy field around it," her mother supplied.

"What sort of energy field?" Jenny was the first to ask. "What's it made of?"

"They're not really sure…I could put you through to UNIT's Scientific Head. She probably wants to talk to you anyway, Doctor."

"Yes, yes, that's probably for the best," he agreed, though he was obviously more focused on mulling over the few things Amy had been able to tell them. "An energy field around a ship that's crashed?" He muttered to himself.

"Just give me a few minutes to get to her. Come on Rory, Sarah Jane," her mother was saying. So the whole group had apparently assembled. She had to be thankful the Doctor had called her mother, who had the tenacity to hang on to a phone even if the Prince of Wales was on the line. Otherwise they likely would have ended up playing a convoluted Telephone Game as the mobile was passed from person to person.

"If the ship didn't even have enough power to keep itself in orbit, but has an energy field, then the two must be separate. They can't be from the same grid," she reasoned, and her husband nodded.

"Yes, that's what I was thinking. So why put up a force field? And if it's only around a single ship, why can't we land?" The brief elation and ease to his expression had gone again, as he already began to examine the new issue at hand. There was a tautness to his features, bordering on anxiety, that she really didn't like.

"Ask that director woman when Amy gets us through to her," Donna suggested, looking on her nerve-wracked best friend with concern, and he nodded again.

"I should be able to ask her myself," he muttered darkly, "without a phone."

She offered her hand as reassurance, which he took, and tried to think positively. They'd discovered a rather promising explanation for their piloting issues, and that had been the worst part. The worst part, the unknown, was over.

OoO

"Ok, it's the next left, Ron. Left!"

"Alright, I heard you the first time," he grumbled, shaking sandy bangs out of his eyes. Molly had promised to cut them this weekend, but then a loud banging had started on their door yesterday.

"Guys, guys you're not going to believe what's happened—turn on the TV!" They'd let Aaron Wood into the flat and watched in shock as the news footage from the Leadworth golf course played. "They're saying it's just some unidentified debris, but that truck's got UNIT's insignia," Aaron had immediately started in on his findings. "I think we should go check it out."

"What?" Ron had asked, startled.

Molly had been staring at the screen, her face contemplative. "Leadworth…that's where—"

"the Ponds live," the library page finished for her smugly. "That definitely means something's going on."

The Ponds…he'd quite readily recalled the fiery headed woman and her husband with the large nose that they'd met only a year before. "Still, it doesn't mean we need to have a look," he'd protested weakly, curious but not wanting to get in the way of that strange group of individuals. He was sure they merely considered him, Molly, and Aaron to be just accidental acquaintances.

"Yeah, but it's got to be aliens if it's UNIT. And if they're involved, you know who else will be." The teenager had grinned, knowing they were hooked.

"Oh, we ought to go, Ron. We haven't seen him, or Jenny, since before that awful hospital business," Molly had persuaded, knowing he missed their odd friend just as much.

"How do we get there?"

The ginger boy had looked at him like he'd just asked the color of the sky. "You have a car, don't you?"

That was how he ended up driving to Leadworth with his girlfriend and their sort of teenager friend. And Aaron, who had pulled up the directions on his mobile, turned out to be quite the backseat driver.

"That's the turn, Ron."

"Please don't point over my shoulder, Aaron," Molly sighed as he made the turn. He parked on the side of the street and they climbed out, stretching from being cooped up in the car. Rushing through that, Aaron ran up to the fence and they followed after.

Though the crowds were less than they'd seen on television, armed uniformed guards stood on the other side of the newly constructed barricade, keeping it in place and everything orderly. There wasn't much chance they were getting in then.

"Well, I won't be playing a round for some time," one man was joking with his friends, gesturing to the near-crater in the in the ground. Ron could only look at it, and the large ship, in awe. He thought he'd been done with strange, imposing alien ships once they'd gotten Molly back from those potato things, last year.

"Excuse me," the brunette woman approached the group of men. "Do you know if there were any injuries?" He had to admire his girlfriend's thinking and concern.

"Nothing serious. Brian's boy and some London woman treated everyone on-site yesterday. 'Spect she must have been some friend of his, cause Rory's got that internship in the city."

Wait. A medically trained man named Rory? "Rory Williams?" He guessed and the man regarded him with some surprise.

"Yes, that's who I mean. How'd you—"

"We're friends of his, sort of," Molly explained. "That's part of the reason we're here."

"Yeah? What's the rest of it?"

"Er…" Ron's gaze shifted to Aaron, who was doing what most of the other people were doing—taking pictures. The men laughed.

"I got a great shot of some bloke jumping inside the thing," a girl who looked about university age was telling the teen.

"Really? What'd he look like?" Aaron inquired, clearly excited at the idea.

"Oh, some hired man or soldier, he was in uniform."

"Aaron!" Ron called, somewhat embarrassed at the touristy feel the boy was giving to the three of them. Aaron scowled at him, but bid the girl farewell and rejoined them.

"I was almost positive she was going to say 'bowtie'," the ginger-haired teenager practically whined. "I was hoping she would, anyway."

Aaron, how could you wish such a thing?" Molly demanded, aghast. "Better that the Doctor left it to the professionals!"

Aaron gave a snort. "The Doctor's basically _the_ professional. Plus it's totally the sort of thing he'd do. Which means…" he trailed off, expecting them to finish.

"Which means what?" Ron gave up, clueless.

"Which means he isn't here. I don't see any blue phone boxes, do you?" He had to admit the boy was right; his former flat mate's mode of transport was conspicuously absent.

"Then where is he? You're right, he should be here," Molly fretted.

"I don't know. But I think I can find out, come on!" The teenager raced off back in the direction of the car.

"Where are you going?" Ron shouted after him, turning to exchange an exasperated glance with his girlfriend only to find that she was no longer their as she'd followed her young coworker.

"To the car! We need to go back to the library."

"What? We just got here!" He pointed out, but decided it was useless to stick around here. "It's going to take us till the afternoon to get back."

"Start driving then!" Was the flippant response.

"How'd the Doctor ever put up with you?" He had to wonder. Then again, he could possibly ask the alien himself, if Aaron was able to contact him. Something to get him through this no doubt annoying car ride.

OoO

The air grew more stale and musty the further down they went, and it was only a strong resolve that kept him from voicing the idea that it was growing darker, too. Gregory simply walked on, keeping his eyes and focus on the silhouette of the woman in front of him.

Inside, the young 2nd Lieutenant felt dreadful. That they were taking this dismal detour was his fault. It had been stupid of him not to hold the door until they were sure this was the path they were going to take. But the Director's command to stay with Dr. Jones had been fresh in his mind and so he'd followed. His orders didn't excuse the fact, however, that it had been a foolish tactical blunder.

The silence of the others was not helping his self-deprecatory reflections. Usually the three could be counted on for their light-hearted teasing and camaraderie in the face of danger, yet since they'd all realized they were essentially trapped until further notice, they'd quieted. Except for the occasional hum, sigh, or mutter, no one spoke a word.

Until the Captain. "Ok, gang, we've got a whole corridor of doors. I reckon we're near the center, wrong floor. Now we're big kids; let's not worry Kate with every decision."

"We could open each," Martha suggested. "Shine a torch in and see if any of them head up."

Her husband shook his head. "I say we go on. These are just distractions, a labyrinth. We'll end up even more lost."

"It's not guaranteed that this will take us back up," she argued.

"Kate thinks it will."

"Kate doesn't have a blueprint of this place, Mickey!" She laughed, but it didn't hold the same warmth as usual. It sounded strained. She sighed, looking away and running a hand along the wall. "If we just knew who built this thing we might stand a better chance figuring out where things are."

"Fact is, we don't," Jack broke back into the debate. "Well, you two have given your completely opposite opinions, thanks for the help." It rang of sarcasm. "What do you think, Gregory?" All three suddenly turned to face him and his eyes darted back and forth between the Smith-Jones'.

"It might be worth it to check a couple," he offered, and Martha smiled at him even as Mickey grumbled.

"Alright," Jack said, nodding. "I'm going to try this one on the left." He heard more than saw the slide of the door and the rattle of the bars.

And then it came back. The laughing. "Oh great," Mickey groaned. "Let's just go on, we're obviously not supposed to go this way."

"What, like a warning?" The female doctor asked. She took a step forward and Gregory shadowed it with one of his own. "Then maybe this is exactly the way we're supposed to go."

"Woah, hold it, Martha," Jack cautioned, putting out a hand. "In my experience, creepy kids really aren't much of a good thing. We might just want to keep moving." He moved his other hand away from the motion-sensor panel and the yellow glow went out. The American and Mickey immediately continued down the corridor.

As Gregory walked past the door, it was almost shut. But just before the bars locked back into place, one childish voice rose up above the rest, an echo. "Are you going away again?" But it cut out so abruptly he almost thought he'd imagined it. At least until he turned and found Dr. Jones staring at the door with the same shock and disbelief as he.

"Did you…" he wasn't quite able to articulate his question, but she nodded. Lowly, the woman raised her hand to the panel.

"Martha, Gregory, come on!" Mickey called from down the corridor, voice gruff with frustration and worry. In the torchlight, the dark-haired woman rolled her eyes, but did as requested, Gregory following dutifully after. But every once in a while, she would glance back at him as if to reassure herself of what they'd both heard.

He had a sinking feeling in his chest; to ignore the laughing was one thing, fine, but someone—a child—speaking to them? If it was speaking to them.

"We'll continue on for a while, stop to rest, eat, and make a report, and then we'll decide which way we want to keep going," the Captain was saying up ahead.

"Right."

"Fine."

Said the Smith-Jones pair, but as he kept his eyes trained on them, his charge in particular, he couldn't help noticing a coldness and distance between the two. By the way the Captain's shoulders were tensed, he was certain the immortal man was aware of it as well.

It hardly mattered if Gregory could see it happening, though, if he had no idea what to do about it.

**Ok, so the Doctor and company are about to get briefed on the situation on Earth! What are our three OCs up to? And more difficulties are popping up for the taskforce! Why do I sound like a weird announcer? Anyway, thanks so much for reading the chapter, and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm being so unfair to my other stories…but I can't help it, I love updating for this one! I get inspired each time one of you says you can't wait to see what happens, and then I want you to see what happens, so it's this never ending cycle of updating and typing and updating. But that's not a problem; frankly I'm thrilled. So thanks so much for all the feedback, and here's the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Six**

"Come on Rory, Sarah Jane," she motioned for the other two to follow as she stood up, breathless already with excitement. They'd been hanging on her every word, just as she'd been hanging on the Doctor's. Because at last they were going to get down to the bottom of this, at last she felt like she was doing something.

"Amy, is that him? That Raggedy Doctor Smith of yours?" Brian asked, clearly trying his best to comprehend, the poor man.

She smiled indulgently. "Just the Doctor, Brian, but yeah it's him. Everything's going to be ok."

"Amy, we've got to get back to Kate," Sarah Jane urged, and she nodded.

"Right, let's go." They ran the entire way back to the conference room and Amy knocked on the door, doing her best not to pound.

"Come in," the director's voice called, and she eagerly pushed the door open. Kate Stewart had been sitting with her elbows propped on the table, hands folded and chin resting on them, but she sighed at their entrance. "You three needn't have rushed through lunch to return, no further report has been made—"

"Director, it's the Doctor," she interrupted the woman's well-meaning speech, marching forward with the phone held out.

"And we didn't actually have lunch," Rory informed her. Amy rolled her eyes, choosing not to comment, and merely gestured for the blonde woman to take the mobile. She was staring at the device with wide eyes, as if unable to believe it. But her hand was steady as she grasped it.

"Hello? Yes, this is the director. Kate Stewart. It is a pleasure to sort-of-not-really meet you as well, Doctor," the older woman had an amused look on her face as she returned the Time Lord's greeting, before sitting up straighter in her chair and seemingly getting down to business.

"The craft is unidentified, no outer markings to indicate any sort of planetary origin. Then again, not many usually do. It is compact, yet still a large structure. I could read you the measurements." As she listened, the director glanced up at the three of them still standing there, and waved a hand at their chairs. "I'm placing you on speaker, Doctor, is that alright?"

Amy was quite grateful for that, as having only Kate's responses was getting frustrating. The Doctor's voice suddenly burst forth from the mobile as the woman changed the setting and placed it on the table. "Yes, that's fine, we've got you on speaker as well. Makes it easier for us all to talk."

"Wouldn't it just be easier for you to come here and talk?" Rory questioned, and Amy realized belatedly that she was the only one who knew.

"He can't land the TARDIS here, it won't let him."

"The TARDIS won't land on Earth? Whatever for?" Sarah Jane asked, perplexed as she was at the very notion.

"We've been trying to figure that out," her daughter chose to answer them. "It hasn't exactly been easy—"

"Nearly got the Doctor killed, it did," Donna broke in.

"What?" All four of them demanded.

"Just a slight accident in the Vortex, nothing special," the alien dismissed. "But as River was saying, we can't get to you, so for now this is the best we've got."

"Amy told us about an energy field," Jenny reminded them all. "Could that possibly have anything to do with it?"

"There is a force field of some sort around the ship," Kate began to explain. "Its components and source of power as of yet are unknown. However, it has proven to be resistant to scans. It also seems to protect the ship from outside damage, as we have been able to physically pass through it but not to take apart the ship itself."

"You said outside damage," River noted, and she could just picture the professor with her arms folded, eyes narrowed.

"I did. There is one hole in the side of the craft, passable for a human, and apparently made before the crash from the inside out."

"But if the force field doesn't stop people or things from getting through it, then the Doctor should be able to land here," Rory argued, and Amy felt her husband was right. True, she'd had experiences when the TARDIS was unable to go somewhere or stay, but that was usually when there was a clear and present danger, not some abandoned skeleton of a ship.

"That is a very valid point. Doctor, any thoughts?" Kate requested of the Time Lord, who she realized had been awfully quiet of late.

He spoke, but not in answer of their inquiries. Rather with one of his own, in that steely tone of his where he sounded completely calm and it frightened the listener all the more. "You said a human could pass through the opening."

"Yes," Kate nodded once, obviously not quite getting the sense of foreboding she was.

"How do you know that, Director? Did you test it?"

"I…" the woman's eyes darted to her, almost as if she was silently asking what to do, but Amy didn't know. She bit her lip as the woman swallowed and stated, "We have sent a small taskforce into the ship, yes."

There was a moment of silence, and she cringed as she could just picture the cold mask his face had likely become. "You sent humans—living, breathing human beings—to poke around inside a spaceship that you know absolutely nothing about?"

"It was the only thing she could do," Sarah Jane rose to the other woman's defense. "It's UNIT's job to investigate and handle extraterrestrial matters."

"We all agreed it was the best course of action," Rory added. "Martha, Mickey, Jack, and Gregory, too."

"Martha _and_ Mickey?" The Time Lord cried almost horror. "They have children!"

"They decided they would be able to protect each other better together," Kate explained. "I'm sorry Doctor, but there wasn't another option."

"There's always another option, Kate!" He argued. "You could have waited, you _should _have waited."

"Like that's worked so well in the past?" Amy shot back, closing her eyes and hating herself for knowing how much that would pain him. Sure enough, he was silent. "I'm sorry," she tried in a more delicate tone, "but we don't even know when you're going to get here."

"He understands, mum," River's voice replied, and she had to wonder how much of it was a lie.

"How do we know they're all ok?" Donna asked, and Kate looked glad to have something else to talk about than what they should or shouldn't have done.

"They each have an earpiece with a connection back to this room, and all four are working. I have given them instructions specifically not to delay or to split up. So far, they have not been in any immediate danger."

"Good," said the Doctor in a glum voice, almost grudging, as though still upset with them all for even thinking of doing this. Yes he was right, but so were they and he was just going to have to deal with it. "What specifics have they given about the ship itself?"

"It is a nondescript color, all dark grays and such, the doors are motion activated—"

"There's no stairs," Rory contributed and they all turned to look at him.

"They never said that," Sarah Jane disputed, looking up from the notes she had scribbled down.

"But the corridor they're on now, it _slopes_ down," her husband reiterated. "Then why not just use stairs? Whoever had it built didn't want them."

"Great, so we've discovered a ship for alien wheelchairs?" She attempted to joke, and the others at least cracked a smile. She couldn't tell what the ones in the TARDIS were doing, though.

"Motion sensors and ramps? Well it could be…" the Time Lord trailed off, likely thinking back on the countless species he'd encountered.

They heard Jenny again. "Dad, there's an incoming message on the monitor. Shall I put it through?"

"What? No it can—is more important—I don't—" static began to break into the middle of his sentences so that they only got snippets, and Amy stared with the others at the phone in confusion and growing worry. They'd only just managed to get in contact with him!

"TARDIS can't—both at once—we—go now—back—later." And with that the call ended.

"Oh why did it have to be then? He barely even got a chance to think of what it could be, let alone tell us," Sarah Jane sighed.

"Yeah, and phoning in and out of the Vortex can take forever, so we've no idea when he'll call back," Amy pointed out in frustration.

"All I want to know is why he can't come out of the Vortex himself? What's so bad about that ship?" Rory was questioning.

"Thank you all," Kate said softly, and they turned to see her staring down at the phone with a sad, regretful look. "For defending my decisions. I knew they weren't the ones he would have made, but—"

"Oh, Kate, he's not upset with you," the journalist rushed to reassure. "He's angry at himself, I really think."

Amy and Rory both nodded, but she had to wonder; if he thought they were going about this the wrong way, what should they be doing instead?

OoO

Jenny turned a knob on the monitor as her father switched off the phone, and the picture refocused—on a very familiar boy with red hair.

"Aaron!" She exclaimed in incredulous joy.

"Jenny! Great, it still works," the teenager cheered, sitting back so she could take in a view of the old library she'd briefly worked in. She noticed both Ron and Molly hovering over either of his shoulders.

"Hey guys!" She greeted them as well and they both waved.

"Aaron?" Her dad darted over to stand slightly to the side and behind her. Donna and River both walked over, equally curious.

"Hi," the ginger-boy grinned, pleased as ever to be speaking to his friend and, truthfully, role model.

"Hello, Doctor," Molly said.

"Good to see you again, mate," Ron added.

"Yes, good to see you, too. But, er…how do you know my daughter?" She glanced back at him with surprise at the genuine perplexed look on his face.

"Oh!" She slapped a hand to her forehead in realization. "Of course you don't know, you weren't there!"

"Weren't where?" He demanded.

"Jenny tracked you to your time as John Smith," River clarified, "and Aaron was kind enough to help her to find all of us."

"Yeah, and when I snuck into the Wilkins Institute I sort of borrowed-without-asking your glasses, but I gave them to Aaron cause I thought we were both going to be trapped," she rushed through that part in one breath, hoping he would skim over the loss of the glasses, "and then he hooked them up to a computer in the library so that he could call the TARDIS and make sure we were ok."

"You would've known all this if you hadn't been moping after we rescued you," Donna stated bluntly, and she and River both winced.

"Oh." Her father blinked. "That was very nice of you, Aaron."

"Anything for a friend," the teenager replied. "Jenny and I are friends," he stressed as her father continued to glance back and forth at them, an almost suspicious look in his eyes.

"Right," was all the response he gave. She gave a huff and placed both hands on her hips as he stepped around in front of her. Honestly, she could handle it herself! "Not that I don't enjoy hearing from you three, but why exactly are you calling?"

"Well, we visited Leadworth today—"

"Visited? More like he forced me to drive all the way there, only so we could stick around that crash site for a few minutes and then drive all the way back!"

"Ron, you're ruining the story!"

"It's not a story!"

"So we were wondering," Molly took up the tale in as loud a voice as a library setting would permit, successfully shutting both males up, "if you could tell us what's happening. Who's trying to invade us now?"

"No one, as far as I know," her father replied, before sighing. "As for what's happening and who, I wish I could tell you. If I could just see the thing, that would help—"

"You haven't even seen it?" Aaron asked, bewildered.

"No, the TARDIS is giving us trouble," Jenny put it simply.

"Well, I took pictures. I could probably upload them through the link."

"What?" All four of them yelped, and the three on the screen jumped back.

"Yeah, no problem. Just give me a minute," he told them, a slight smirk to his face at their amazed reactions.

"Alright, you do that—Aaron Wood, you genius, you!" Her father praised, practically beaming. She waited with growing anticipation, listening to the clacking of the keyboard and the staccato clicks of the mouse. Until at last—

"I agree with Amy," Donna decided, clearly unimpressed. "Big and gray."

"They were right about the lack of damage," River remarked, leaning forward to study the screen. "Just that little rip in the side of it. I expect that's where—Doctor?" Jenny stepped around at the worried quality to her step-mum's voice in order to get a good look at her father.

It was like he'd been replaced with a statue of himself. His eyes were wide as physically possible, his mouth dropped slightly open, his skin paler than she'd ever seen, and all completely still.

"Dad?"

He jerked at the sound of her voice, tearing his eyes away from the screen to gaze at her for a long moment. At last he shook his head, clearing it of its frozen state. "Aaron, Molly, Ron, I'm afraid I'm going to have to make this call short."

"But, Doctor what is it?" Molly persisted

"Nothing for you to worry about, just stay away from Leadworth."

"But—" Ron protested.

"I said stay out of Leadworth!" Her father commanded before shutting the monitor off. He stormed back over to the console.

"You don't need to be rude," Donna reprimanded, watching him warily, "whatever it is—what is it?"

He was dialing again, punching the buttons in with a ferocity she had never seen from him. "The worst possible thing." He'd messed the number up twice already his fingers were trembling so badly, and River grabbed his hand, replacing it with her own.

"Amy's phone?" The blonde woman guessed and he nodded. "Why do you need to call them, Doctor?" She asked calmly as she entered it in.

"To warn them."

"Dad, what is it?" She begged, real fear in her voice now. Martha, Mickey, Jack, Gregory—what danger were they in?

"Doctor?" Her grandmother picked up before the first ring had ended, sounding hopeful. Not desperate like they were.

"Get them out." He ordered in a level voice.

"Sorry?"

"_Get them out_! Now, while there's still time!"

"Doctor, we went over this last time," her grandfather now spoke in a weary tone, not liking to fight with the people he cared about, she knew. But her father shook his head.

"You don't understand, the ship—"

"You know what it is?" Sarah Jane this time.

"Yes! So you have to—"

"Doctor," the one voice unfamiliar to her, Director Stewart, interrupted. "If you know what this ship is, then you know I can't. They've reported that they cannot go back through doors they have already entered."

"What? But—no…they don't have the clearance," he stumbled back from the console a few steps, the dismay evident in both voice and expression.

"Then what do they do, dad? If they can't get out, what do they do?" She prompted, and again he snapped out of his shocked reverie.

"They- they've got to go back as far as they can. Send in some people to reopen the doors, get them all out."

"That would put even more people at risk," the director reasoned.

"You can't let them go on, Kate, it's a—"

"Kate!" A shout, as though from a separate speaker, crackled through on their end as well. Jack's voice. "We- I don't know—_what the hell is this thing_?"

OoO

"We'll stop here."

Mickey did his best not to breathe a sigh of relief as Jack came to a halt ahead of him, slipping his pack off to retrieve his first set of rations. As though part of some unconscious agreement, all four of them placed their torches shining outward, in order to best be able to see anything approaching. They'd only been down here a few hours and already the place was getting to them.

He did not think of himself as someone easily startled; the years of aliens, monsters, and gunfire had seen to that. Yet he felt particularly vulnerable inside this ship with hardly a plan and no immediate way out.

"What do you think, half an hour before we start again?" Martha had gone over to ask their immortal friend, and so Mickey stepped quietly over to Gregory, in order to ask the man about what was worrying him most of all; his wife.

"Gregory," he began softly, "Martha keeps looking back at you. Is something the matter?"

"No," the other man shook his head before pausing as if to reconsider his response. "Well…we both sort of heard something, that last time we tried a door."

"Heard something? Aside from those laughs?"

"Yes, sir. A child. They said something like 'Are you leaving again?' But then the door shut and it stopped."

"You're sure?" He couldn't help but ask in disbelief. After all, how did that make any sense? The four of them had not left anyone anywhere. "Jack and I didn't hear it."

"Well, you'd both already moved on, sir," was the young soldier's reply.

"I suppose that could have affected it. But," he stopped midsentence, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure his wife and the Captain were still talking. "Does Martha seem…a bit more jumpy than usual?"

"I don't think it's really my place, sir," Gregory spoke, turning away and getting his ration out. Mickey frowned as he walked back over to join the other two.

He certainly thought she was acting a bit odd, aside from constantly turning back to look at the 2nd Lieutenant. In the lighting, it appeared to him as though the grip on her gun was tighter, her muscles tenser, and her face more anxious. He was nervous, too; they'd gone on missions together before, but never ones like these where the outcome was so uncertain. He had to wonder if perhaps Martha was cracking under the strain, and how much of what she and Gregory had heard was real. With the exception of the laughs, he hadn't heard—

Mickey froze at a distant rumbling noise from above, snapping his head up to look at the darkened ceiling. That sound, it had been awfully close to one of those doors being opened. Too close.

"Martha, Jack," he hissed, for the two were chuckling over some old story or joke, "Listen!" They both did as asked, but of course by then the noise had stopped. "Never mind," he grumbled, even as they exchanged concerned glances.

Martha walked up to him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright, Mickey?"

"I'm fine," he dismissed, angry at himself for getting them all even more worked up. She narrowed her eyes at his terse reply and stepped back.

"Alright then," she retorted.

"I think I'll give Kate an update," Jack announced loudly, so he sighed and waited as the Captain activated the earpiece. "We've stopped briefly to eat and decide on our next course of action."

"Good. Has the passage begun to slope back up yet?"

"Afraid not," Jack was saying, but Mickey was finding it difficult to concentrate on the discussion. Was that just an echo of the noise he'd heard, or a new one all entirely?

"I think we ought to try a new way," he spoke aloud, twisting his head back to check the way they'd come. "We're not having any luck here."

"Hang on, Mister, you just said not too long ago we should stay on this path, remember?" Martha recalled, and he winced.

"Yeah, but what if that's making us too easy to- to, I dunno, track or something?"

"Nobody's tracking us, Mickey," Jack reminded, eyeing him warily.

"How do we know?"

"I agree," Gregory spoke up. "About not knowing. I mean, someone's got to be making those noises. We can't be alone."

"I think you're just listening to the panic—"

"I'm not panicking, Jack!" He realized only after it had flown out of his mouth how foolish it made him sound as his friend simply held up both hands. And he wasn't even able to look at his own wife, who was the one maintaining a level head now. "Sorry," he spoke into the earpiece.

"It's none of your faults," Kate told them wearily. "And you all should know: we've made contact with the Doctor. He wants you all to be extremely careful."

Jack snorted. "More like he wants us to turn around and get the hell out."

"I was trying to put it in better terms, but I suppose you know him too well for that," she returned wryly and they all chuckled.

"He never thinks we can do these things on our own," Mickey commented, shaking his head. It was strange; he felt much calmer now, and recognized that he really had just been working himself up with the mysterious sounds. "Alright, I say let's just keep going this way."

"That's more like it," Jack grinned and hoisted his pack onto his shoulders. Martha reached out and squeezed his hand briefly before getting hers as well, and it was with a lighter air that they continued on, the silence a companionable one.

At least until the rumbling sounded again, louder than both previous times, and he wasn't the only one to stop. "Did you all…?" He whispered hoarsely after a moment.

"Yes," all three replied, equally as hushed.

"Was it just me, or did it sound like—" Martha began, but he was too impatient and finished for her.

"One of these doors opening? Yeah, I've heard it once or twice already. Couldn't decide if I was just going barmy or not."

"If you are, so am I," Jack returned before adding, "Tighten up formation."

They did so, he and Martha brushing elbows, and advanced at a crawl. Mickey could practically feel Gregory's breath hot on his neck as the young soldier stayed as close to his wife as possible, and had to be grateful to the other man for the added protection. He wasn't sure how else he would have been able to focus on simply moving forward in formation otherwise.

As it was, yet another echoing clang of bars—incredibly close to his ears—had them halt again.

"I'm starting to think that new path idea wasn't so bad, Mickey Mouse," the Captain remarked, motioning with his hand to a door on their left. His friend then waved it over the sensory panel, which glowed yellow and activated the door. Doing their best not to run, they all hurried in.

"You came back!"

"Did you bring us toys again?"

"That's what I was telling you about!" Gregory cried over the rising cacophony of giggles and inane, childlike phrases.

"Should we really be moving toward them?" He shouted, squinting ahead at the inky darkness and then looking back longingly the way they'd come. Would they even be able to get back now?

"Not many other options, unless you can think of any!" Jack retorted. "We'll just have to—"

"Jack!" Martha yelled, pointing down the unknown corridor. They could just make out a tiny green circle lighting up, and it was accompanied by that now dreadful to his ears rumble as a door slid open. And just as if they had left the hall, the laughter stopped.

There was nothing but their ragged breaths, at least not at first. Mickey calmed the pounding of his heart as best he could, but it sped right back up again as his ears caught it: a little brush of something against the floor. Then another. And another. And another and another.

_Wssh…wssh…wssh…wssh…_

"Hello?" His wife tentatively called. The brushing noises stopped, too. They then turned to steps, steady footfalls no longer dragging, carrying a shadowy figure forward.

"Get back, everybody back!" Jack cautioned, forcing them to retreat right to the door they'd entered through. Out of the corner of his eye, Mickey saw Gregory try the panel to no avail. So he focused his gaze forward and readied his weapon just as the Captain, who stood right in front, trying to block as much of them from view as possible.

He could still see the unknown something approach. As it stepped ever closer, dull colors began to turn brighter and brighter as they reached the outer edge of the darkness that their meager torches penetrated.

The first thing Mickey saw was red. So much red, changing from dull rust to warm auburn to true, true red locks tumbling past bony shoulders in waves. A dress of deep red flowed down to the floor, hiding the feet. A pair of eyes, the faintest blue, blinked out at them from a pale, almost ghostly face.

"Oh my God," Martha breathed beside him.

"It's a woman," he stated numbly, so stunned he lowered the gun. In front, Jack did as well.

"Ma'am?"

Those strange blue eyes darted to the Captain. "Who are you?"

"Er…we're representatives. From UNIT and Torchwood. Who are you?"

"You are not prisoners?"

He almost took a step back at that; he'd completely forgotten the fact that this ship could possibly be incarcerating people or creatures of some kind. And this strange woman thought they were some of them?

"Are you?" His wife asked before her eyes widened. "Are you alright? I didn't even think about that." She dodged around Jack, eliciting startled yelps from him and Mickey, and stopped before the woman.

"Martha, careful!" He warned, still not sure what to even think of this stranger.

"Kate, we've apparently come across a resident of the ship," Jack muttered into the communicator as discreetly as he could.

"You have?" She asked in surprise.

"Uh-huh, a woman. We don't know what she's doing here."

Martha meanwhile was fussing over her new patient. "Have they been holding you here? It's going to be alright, we've come to help. You're freezing!" She'd taken up the woman's hands, and now turned back to them. "Mickey, get a blanket or something from your pack, we've got to warm her up."

He grumbled as he set his pack down to start searching for the requested item.

"You are not prisoners?" The woman repeated again.

"No, we're here to help," his wife informed her kindly. "Everything will be fine. Just relax."

A horrified gasp from her had his head jerking up sharply to see her lurch away from the red-haired woman. "Your pulse!" Martha looked back at them with alarm. "She doesn't have a pulse!"

"You are not prisoners. You are unauthorized," the woman—was it even a woman—stated in her monotonous tone, and froze for a single second.

Then the most terrible sound he felt he'd ever heard began. A series crick-cracking, snap-splitting, _breaking_ as her head slowly lolled to the side. Her forehead began to glow blue as a hum started up. The blue became brighter and bigger as though it was pushing out as the hum became an all too familiar whirr.

"Dr. Jones!" Gregory lunged forward and seized Martha, yanking her back behind Jack, and Mickey pulled her into his arms, yet was unable to look away as the glare of a Dalek's eyestalk burst out of the woman's forehead trained on them.

"You are unauthorized."

"Stay down, you three!" The immortal man ordered, his voice powerful yet trembling in fear. "Kate!" The Captain cocked his gun with shaky hands, the unimaginable horror unfolding before them so disturbing him. "We- I don't know—_what the hell is this thing_?"

**So cliffhangers aren't that bad, are they guys?...sorry! At last we know the origins of the spaceship, more details to come. Ok, so, can't wait to hear what you all thought of the chapter! Thanks so much for reading and please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Alright, so I think I've made you guys wait more than enough. It's exciting to see that this story's picking up more interest, and I'm hoping this chapter continues to live up to your expectations. **

**Just to clear up some confusion, no the Teselecta and the Antibodies are not making an appearance in this fic; I'd completely forgotten the "You are unauthorized" connection, and there wasn't really a better phrase. Really what you should be picturing are the puppet-Daleks from "Asylum of the Daleks". I hope that makes sense. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Seven**

"Captain, what is it? _Jack_? Jack Harkness!" No one made a move to answer Kate's panicked transmission.

Martha felt frozen, clutching at Mickey, the whole group collectively holding its breath. The Dalek- the woman- the _thing_ turned its head from side to side slowly, letting the eyestalk rove over each of them. She wished desperately she could see what was running through it's- mind? Was that even the proper term for something so horrid?

At last it stopped and Jack spread his arms even wider, knowing as they all did that running was foolish and impossible. They had nowhere to go. She tightened her grip on her husband and squeezed her eyes shut, prepared.

"Subjects unknown."

Martha's eyes snapped right back open in amazement as the eyestalk began to retract into the woman's head, the glaring blue light fading away. Once it had fully disappeared, the thing turned around and began to walk back into the darkness.

"What?" Jack breathed barely above a whisper, his arms still raised as though he couldn't believe it wasn't necessary. Martha, however, gathered her resolve and broke out of Mickey's arms, ducking under Jack's as she called after the retreating figure.

"Wait!"

"Martha!" All three men shouted in despair, both Mickey and Gregory rushing after her.

"Jack, pleased respond!" Kate was trying again.

"We're alright, we're alright," Jack hastened to reply. "We've encountered, uh, a life form. Dalek."

"Dalek!"

The thing, meanwhile, had stopped and so Martha drew up to it. She hesitated when it came to touching it, though, the memory of that dead pulse still making her shiver. "Yes?"

She faltered, staring into those human eyes. How? How could such a despicable thing be hidden inside this woman?

"Not _a_ Dalek, Kate. Just Dalek-like," Jack was struggling to explain.

"Hold on, Captain, we're trying to temporarily connect you to the phone line."

"Does the subject require something from me?" The woman prompted, sounding almost curious if not for the flat look in her eyes.

"Um, hi," Martha managed to finally say, a weak smile flitting across her face. "Listen, just now you said we were 'unauthorized'."

"That is correct," the woman-Dalek replied with almost no inflection, just like everything else she had said.

"Right, well, why are you just…leaving us alone?"

"Don't make it kill us!" Mickey almost squawked behind her in alarm.

"Mickey, it—or she, I don't know—is at least part-Dalek. Don't you want to know why she isn't killing us?" She glanced back imploringly at the two men, who still appeared very apprehensive. Gregory at least had lowered his gun slightly.

"You are of no consequence. My orders pertain to the prisoner alone." That answer had her whipping her head back around. Doing her best not to get offended over the 'no consequence' remark, Martha pressed on.

"Who gave you those orders?"

"The Daleks."

She wanted to smack herself on the forehead. Of course the Daleks. "But—why you? Why not just station a Dalek here? What are you doing here?" She stopped herself from asking just _what_ she was, not truly wanting to provoke the thing. The woman.

"This is a prison ship. I am the Warden."

She opened her mouth again when suddenly a burst of static shot through the earpiece. Grabbing at it, Martha winced along with the others as the director's voice was heard, "We've almost got it connected, there might be some issues with static, and we don't know how long it will last."

"Connected to who, Director?" Gregory inquired, bewildered.

"The—" but she was cut off by a very familiar voice, a voice that sounded as though it was reaching the end of a furious tirade.

"—just put me through!"

"I think you're through, Boss," Mickey commented, still rubbing at his ear.

"Mickey?" The Doctor almost shouted, sounding almost frantic with worry. "Are you all ok? Is Martha with you?"

"I'm right with him," she spoke through the communicator, feeling herself relax just at the sound of his voice. The Doctor would know what to do, he had to.

"Me too, Doc, in case you were wondering." Jack added somewhat cheekily. "And Gregory."

"Oh, good. Oh, thank heaven," the Time Lord spoke, incredibly relieved. It didn't last long as he continued, "This Dalek-like life form you've encountered, describe it."

"It's masquerading as a woman, sir, with an eyestalk hidden in its head," Gregory answered.

"She's not masquerading."

"What?" All four of them said it.

"She is—was a woman. They've turned her into a puppet now, created to follow orders without thought." He sounded a strange mix between disgusted and pitying. It had to feel so unnatural; a creature he so detested combined with one he so loved.

"They made her to be the Warden. That's what she said, she's the Warden of this Dalek prison ship," Martha said, her voice quaking with something close to anger.

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter if it's masquerading or not, Martha says it's dead," Mickey informed him.

"How do you know?" Rory's voice crackled through.

"No pulse," she answered quickly. The thing—the Warden—blinked once and then began to walk again.

"This conversation is unimportant."

"No- no, wait!" She really did reach out and grab her arm.

"Martha, just let it go," Mickey hissed in her ear. "The quicker it leaves without killing us, the better."

She ignored his concerns, instead reactivating the earpiece, "The Warden didn't kill us. Does that mean she's safe?"

"She has no orders regarding you. Because you shouldn't be there, I might add."

"Well if she's—sorry, if you're the Warden," Gregory addressed both them and the puppet-Dalek, "that means you know your way around here, right?"

"I know the complete layout of the ship," the Warden answered matter-of-factly.

"Nice thinking, Gregory!" Jack praised, coming forward. "Ma'am- er, Warden, we've been sent to repair your craft. You are aware that it crashed, right?"

"Yes."

"We'll need your help navigating the area," he continued, giving the rest of them a wink. "Will you help us?"

"Yes."

"Great! One moment, please," he motioned for them all to turn into a huddle of sorts, and spoke though the line. "Doc, Kate, we've got ourselves a guide."

"The Dalek agreed to help you?" Sarah Jane questioned in shock.

"Yeah, and that should be suspicious enough," Mickey remarked.

"That doesn't matter," the Doctor interrupted irritably. "Just have her take you back to hole—a Warden has higher clearance than you—and get out of there!"

"Come on, Doc, that's not the plan," the immortal man reminded him in an almost teasing voice.

"Do you think she'll take you to the control room?" Amy asked.

"If we tell her there's engine trouble or something, probably," Martha shrugged.

"Just because she will doesn't change the fact that it's too dangerous!" The Time Lord snapped.

"Do you want to continue the mission?" Kate posed the question. Martha looked around at the men's pale, drawn faces, likely a mirror of her own. She slipped her hand into Mickey's, and the slight scowl he wore left his face.

"Yes," all four responded.

"Do you even listen to me?" The Doctor demanded, but River must have made her way forward for she spoke next.

"Never mind him, if you feel you can do it, do it."

"Good enough for me," Jack replied.

"You—"

"Good luck!" Jenny cut across her father.

"Be careful!" Donna added, and there was another burst of static.

"We couldn't maintain the connection between the earpieces and the TARDIS," Kate explained after a moment.

"He's still ranting angrily to us, of course," Amy informed them.

"Tell him not to worry, it'll all be over soon," Martha assured. "We've got a guide. We'll be out before he knows it." She wished he would stop fretting; they could handle it.

"Do we really want it as a guide, though?" Her husband questioned. "Can we trust it?"

"The Warden's the best shot we have at getting this done, and quickly. Trust me, I'm not thrilled about it, either," Jack told him, and Martha sighed.

"She didn't kill us, and she doesn't seem like she's going to."

"Right, good point, Martha," the Captain acknowledged, facing the puppet once again. "Warden, we need you to take us to the control room. There's something about it that's interfering with our, uh, repair equipment."

She nodded and started back through the darkness without another word, so they hurried after.

"I still don't like it," Mickey muttered. Martha resisted the urge to sigh yet again. She loved her husband, but when he was determined to dislike something, there was no convincing him otherwise.

Stuck in formation between him, Jack, and Gregory, Martha could only watch the Warden from afar, her hair and dress swishing from side to side as she took measured steps. Was she making the decision to walk forward on her own, or was some Dalek observing from some distant mother ship, transmitting orders?

Martha had hated the Daleks since she first encountered them, but to take an innocent woman and transform her into this for some ghastly purpose? They had sunk to an all new low. Her fear fading fast, now Martha Jones just felt a growing curiosity. How had this woman fallen into the hands of the Daleks? And if she was the Warden, where and what were the prisoners?

OoO

"Of all the things! Why bother even asking my opinion when they're going to follow their own foolish little ideas!" Her husband was past shouting as he tore from one end of the platform to the other, in a furious frenzy. River frowned, but decided to allow Donna and Jenny the first crack at that while she wound down the conversation on the phone.

"Is he going to stop any time soon?" Her father inquired, and she sighed.

"Probably not. I think it's best if we just hang up for now. We'll be in touch," she promised.

"Try and be calmer, too," Amy shot back just before she hung up, and her mouth turned up in a wry smirk. She glanced up from the console to see the other two women were indeed doing as predicted.

"They're just trying to solve this, dad, getting angry at them won't do anything," Jenny was attempting to reason as she followed him back and forth.

Donna, meanwhile, stood by the railing with her hands on her hips. "Yeah, and they're not foolish. Just because we're not all nine-hundred-something doesn't mean we're not smart!"

"I'm not—" he broke off with a frustrated snarl, running an agitated hand through his hair. "I'm not calling you idiots," he said with decreased volume, though it clearly was an effort to do so. "But—you just don't understand. You _can't_ understand. That ship—"

"I don't think _I_ understand," River broke in, and he took a step back from Donna to look at her. "A Dalek prison ship is dangerous, of course, but a prison ship guarded by a single puppet? It's disturbing, but not impossible for them to take care of."

"So, it's ok, right? Everything's ok," Jenny ventured cautiously. But the Doctor closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

"No, everything is not ok. We're still stuck up here! But that is going to change," he decided and stomped down to the lower level, presumably to start tinkering again.

"Does he ever learn?" River huffed, resigning herself to a future bumpy ride through the Vortex that would most likely end in failure.

"Mum," Jenny spoke up suddenly, "the guide that they've found—the Warden. They said it was Dalek-like, and you and dad called it a 'puppet'. What does that mean?"

It was a perfectly innocent question, and yet she closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. "The Daleks often use other life forms as servants by taking over their minds, destroying them. You may have heard of the pig men?" The other blonde nodded. "A 'puppet' looks and behaves very much like its original state of being—until it's activated. It contains Dalek technology, like the eyestalk, inside of a flesh and blood shell that has died, usually because of the Daleks. Though it may go about its normal business, it has no mind or soul of its own."

"Oh my God," Donna's voice shook and Jenny's eyes were wide. "That's horrible. That's- how—oh my God."

"I've never seen one for myself," she admitted softly, "but I have been told that yes, it is horrible." Unwillingly, her gaze dropped to the glass floor, where all three could make out the top of the Doctor's head as he sat in the hanging chair and worked.

"He's your source," the temp stated, completely certain. River simply nodded. "But he's never- and I've never seen the Daleks use them."

"It's been some time since he's heard of one being used, too." She didn't need to say exactly how long. Donna looked away, dabbing at her eyes, but Jenny took a breath and made her way down the steps as well.

"Dad?"

"What?" His voice still carried a biting edge, but it was wearing down, whether from having to sustain it for so long or because of his concentration on the TARDIS, she didn't know.

"What can I do to help?"

There was a pause. "Hand me that orbital adjuster." River gave a louder than necessary cough. "Please," her husband added.

Managing a tight smile at last, she met Donna's eyes once more. "See? We'll get him through this. He just feels trapped up here. Although, I'm not entirely sure it'll be best for him to be down there." A low, barely there hum from the TARDIS echoed her sentiment and her eyes widened. "It _is_ you," she whispered, staring in shock at the time rotor. "You're keeping him up here."

"What? Why would she—" the redhead began, but River whirled around and put a finger to her own lips.

"I don't know why she's doing this, Donna, but not a word," she spoke in rapid, hushed tones. "He'll be livid if he finds out." So why? Why was the ship doing it at all, when she knew her own pilot so well? She looked back at the console in bafflement, but the ship did not offer an explanation.

"Ok, I- I won't say anything," the temp agreed, clearly as confused and even scared as she was. For they both knew, they could postpone it, but he would eventually find out. And then who knew what would happen?

**The TARDIS is stopping the Doctor from landing? What? At least Jack and Co. have found themselves a bit of help, or perhaps a bit of trouble. Is the Warden really to be trusted? Who do you agree with: Martha or Mickey? Thanks so much for reading, and please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, as promised, I will continue this trend of writing and updating. Sorry for the slight hiatus, guys, but once again I'm so glad to hear you all are enjoying the story thus far. Many of you appear to be curious about the Warden, which I'm happy to hear. So without further ado, I'll let you continue reading!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eight**

Sarah Jane tried not to sigh as the line went dead and Kate returned her attention to the taskforce. She had seen the Doctor angry before, scared even. But his voice…that had been sheer, utter panic. And despite the others' encounter with the Dalek puppet—a concept she did not want to think about too much—she still couldn't quite see the need for his alarm.

Jack, Martha, Mickey, and Gregory were all capable people; they could handle it, they could get through. And he had to know that. So why was the Time Lord acting like it was the end of everything?

The others in the conference room were conversing with the taskforce, so it was her distracted state that allowed her to notice the UNIT personnel standing outside the door. She got up discreetly as possible and slipped out.

"Yes?" She asked the two men.

"Someone here for Dr. Jones, ma'am. It's her family."

She swallowed, more than a bit nervous. Having to explain to anyone, let alone family, where the Smith-Joneses were at the moment would be difficult. But she followed the two men to an adjacent room and entered.

"Miss Sarah Jane!" Mandy's eyes immediately lit up in recognition, and the girl ran right up to her and hugged her legs quickly.

"Hello, Mandy," she smiled and bent her knees slightly to be more on the child's level, then glanced up through her bangs at the stern woman cradling the infant Michelle. The younger of the two sisters appeared to be more aware of her surrounding than the last time she had seen her, and cooed happily in a sort of greeting. Still, she addressed the woman, guessing, "You must be—"

"Francine, Martha's mother," the other answered. "And I was rather hoping to see her."

"Oh, well, Martha—" she hesitated, unsure just how much she should, or could, tell the female doctor's mother.

"Dr. Jones is on assignment," a vaguely familiar voice contributed, and she looked back to see Brian Williams framed in the doorway. "She and her husband should be back soon."

"Soon isn't good enough," Francine snapped irritably before rubbing at her temples. "My son Leo is on a business trip, but his wife's come down with something and someone needs to look after their kids. I'd rather not take Mandy and Michelle with me just in case they catch the bug."

Sarah Jane felt her heart go out to the obviously strained grandmother. Looking after just Luke got to be impossible sometimes, not to mention her inquisitive neighbors. "Well, if it's acceptable to you, I could watch the two of them. I have looked after them before," she suggested tentatively, not entirely sure if the other woman would be amendable to the idea.

"I could help as well," Rory's father added, "And I'm sure my son and his wife would be more than happy to."

The other woman appeared torn, but the ringing of a mobile decided it. She sighed, pressing a kiss to the baby's head before giving her to Sarah Jane. "Mandy, give your grandmum a kiss," she requested and the little girl quickly skipped over. Francine straightened back up, looked at her and said "Thank you," to her and Brian before taking out her phone and exiting. "Yes, Leo, I'm leaving now…" they heard her voice trail off down the hall.

"The poor woman," Sarah Jane sighed, and shared a hesitant smile with Brian. "Thank you, by the way," she told the man, "I never know what to say in those sorts of situations."

"Oh, I'm just trying to keep busy," he dismissed. "Amy and Rory keep saying everything is going to be fine, but it all seems so uncertain."

She gave him a real smile then. "It always is."

Mandy had walked up to the nurse's father by then and tugged on his trouser-leg. He glanced down in a bemused sort of way. "Yes?"

"I'm Mandy," the girl introduced, "Who are you?"

"I'm Brian," he told her simply. "I'm, er, a friend of Miss Sarah Jane's," he looked up at her, obviously worrying that his simplification might not be well received, but she nodded to show it was alright.

"Oh. Are you friends with my Mummy and Daddy?"

"Well, no. But my son, Rory, knows them."

"Mr. Rory's your son?" He nodded and the girl grinned. "I like Mr. Rory, he has a funny nose."

"So he does," a Scottish voice agreed, and Sarah Jane turned to see that Amy had now joined them. "What're Mandy and Michelle doing here?"

"Grandmum dropped us off," the child answered. "She was watching us for Mummy, but she had to go to Uncle Leo's house."

"Oh," the redhead responded, clearly uncomfortable as she was, knowing where Martha and Mickey both were right now. "Well, I just need to talk to Sarah Jane, and then I'll be right back. Just wait with Brian, ok?"

When they were out in the hall, she asked the younger woman, "What is it?"

"Kate sent me to get you. She wants to know more about this Warden, and we figured that would be your area of expertise. Martha's more than willing to be your eyes or do any talking."

"Alright then," she nodded. Now that she'd had a minute to clear her head, Sarah Jane did feel her curiosity growing. The more they knew about the Warden and the spaceship she was patrolling, the better, especially for the taskforce. With new determination she strode back into the conference room, taking her seat.

"Where's Amy?" Rory almost immediately asked, aware of his wife's presence or lack thereof as always.

She merely reached over and pressed a button on the communicator. "Martha, Mickey, Francine was called to Leo's place and had to drop the kids off here. Amy and Brian—Rory's father—are watching them."

"How are they?" Both parents instantly asked.

"Fine. We told them you were on assignment, but nothing else."

"Good," Mickey replied, "That's…good."

"And all the more reason to keep moving," Jack's voice cut in. "She's leading us down another corridor, perpendicular to the one we found her in."

"Speaking of the Warden, Martha, would you mind asking her a few questions for me?"

"Of course not," the other woman assured, but the Lieutenant's voice spoke at the same time.

"Is it safe to provoke her? I mean, she is at least somewhat Dalek, ma'am."

"I don't think we should even be following it," Mickey added.

"The more we know, the better we can judge if the Warden is safe," Kate decided. "If Miss Smith keeps her questions reasonable, I do not see why Dr. Jones can't ask them."

"Yes ma'am," came the consent from all four voices, however reluctant some of them were.

"I'll write them down first," Sarah Jane decided, slightly nervous. Not provoking the puppet was crucial, but she felt by even doing this she was already provoking a certain other Smith.

OoO

His wife walked along at the front now, conversing with the Dalek puppet, much too far away for his liking. Mickey was stuck in the back behind Jack, as Gregory had moved up with his charge, and so he could only clench his hand around his gun and listen to her repeat the questions Sarah Jane was asking.

"Are there any Daleks on this ship?"

"No."

"When did they last contact you, then?"

"I do not recall. I simply follow my last instructions to patrol the ship."

"That's your job? There're your only instructions?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"The Warden."

Martha chuckled. "I mean your proper name. I'm Martha Smith-Jones, see? Who're you?"

There was a pause, and then the monotonous voice replied, "My real name was unimportant to the Daleks, so it was not included in my data."

"You've forgotten your name?" She asked it in hushed shock, and Mickey frowned. It couldn't be close to human if it didn't even know who it had been.

"It is no longer in my memory banks," the thing confirmed.

"But it was before," his wife pressed.

"Martha!" He hissed in warning, "Stick to the questions."

"I am," she shot back stubbornly, and he opened his mouth again, but Jack looked at him over his shoulder.

"It's alright, Mickey, Gregory's right there."

He was tempted to grumble back in reply, but the Dalek puppet had begun speaking again.

"There was a time when I was told a word, and that the word was my name, but it was long ago. I did not deem it necessary to store in my memory banks."

"Who told you the word?"

"The prisoner."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Gregory suddenly spoke up.

"Lieutenant, Dr. Jones is the one asking questions," Jack reprimanded, seeming to have at least some sense. "We don't want to overtax our guide."

"Yes, sir," the soldier mumbled, ducking his head.

"But it wasn't a bad question," Martha hastened to add. "You keep mentioning a prisoner. Is it the same one?"

"How do you mean?" Was the slow response after a moment, and he wondered derisively if it had taken the thing that long to process the question.

"You say 'the prisoner' but you're not specific about which one. Which prisoner told you the word?"

A door to the side slid open as they passed, yet the others didn't even look. Feeling a bit cautious, Mickey turned his head to see the metal paneling had retracted but had left the bars, casting long striped shadows down the corridor behind it and its sole occupant.

"_Gran_?"

She was there, just out of arm's reach behind bars! His Gran, without a stick, clinging to the wall desperately, her blank eyes staring back at him out of the gloom. "Mickey, Ricky, where are you?"

"Gran!"

"Mickey, what?"

"Who?"

"Oh my God, it's my Gran!" He cried again. "They've got her! Those monsters locked her up!" He lunged forward to reach through the bars, but Jack clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

"Mickey, what are you talking about?"

"They've got my Gran!" He repeated, whirling back to tear himself out of the other man's grasp.

"Where?"

"What do you mean, where?" He replied, beyond incredulous. Was the man blind?

"Mickey, Ricky, is that you?"

"Gran!" He turned back to see she had stumbled forward, falling to her knees.

"Mickey, wait!" Martha had pushed her way back to him and grabbed his arm, eyes wide and pleading. "Your Gran died. You told me, she can't be—"

"I was wrong before!" He argued. "I found her once!"

"You are wrong," a voice cut in, and Martha and Jack both stepped aside to allow the Warden passage. He stepped back as it approached, raising his gun again.

"How do you know?" He demanded. "Why should I trust you?"

"The 'Gran' is no prisoner," it stated.

"Then who is that? She's right there!" He pointed emphatically at the bars.

"No one's there, Mickey," Martha shook her head and his jaw dropped.

"What do you mean?"

"Mickey, you're pointing to a wall," Jack answered. "It's just a wall, there's nothing there."

"But there is!" He protested, finally reaching forward, "she's right—" but he broke off as his hands pounded against cold, smooth metal. And suddenly he could see exactly what they saw; a blank stretch of wall, and no one but them. "But…she was there."

"Mickey?" Martha asked again after a long silence, and he looked back to see his wife staring at him with open worry and even just the smallest hint of fear. "Are you alright?"

"I—but she was there!" He insisted. It had been so real! "I saw her, my Gran! How did I—"

"You might have imagined it. It was probably just stress, it's nothing" Gregory suggested quietly, but the Warden shook its head, red hair swishing back and forth.

"It was imagined, but it was more than nothing."

"How do you know?" He rounded on the puppet in growing panic and anger as it stared at him impassively. "And how'd you know she wasn't a prisoner, her name isn't 'Gran'!"

"The 'Gran' is not the prisoner."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" He roared.

"Mickey, careful!" Jack ordered but he shook off the warning.

"No! No, I'm sick of this! This whole time we've been hearing things and seeing things and it won't give us a straight answer! You're the Warden of a prison ship, so why haven't we seen any prisoners?"

"This is a prison ship, and there is one prisoner. Only one."

"What?" He staggered back a bit, seemingly stunned.

"Oh…" his wife breathed, "it's not 'the prisoner'. It's _the_ prisoner. Don't you see?" She looked at all three of them imploringly. "We're not on a prison ship. We're in a prison—the whole ship is a prison."

"An entire prison…for one prisoner?" Jack continued her train of thought, gazing with new eyes around the corridor. "What for?"

OoO

The dust swirled around his feet. To the untrained eye, it might have appeared to be mist, but he knew better. It was the dust, the soot, the ashes of everything. Of his everything.

And no matter which way he turned there was no end to the clouds of debris, of remains. It was all bathed in red. And so was he.

The Doctor jerked awake in the repair swing with a cry, rubbing fiercely at his eyes in the low lighting. The TARDIS must have dimmed them when he nodded off. But he didn't want to sleep, couldn't sleep. Not now, perhaps not ever.

He stood from the swing, stretching sore limbs, and glancing about. Jenny must have gone to her own bed at some point, or maybe Donna and River had forced her to. Normally he would have made sure to send her off himself, but as things stood his mind was far too occupied.

It was also still plagued with this stubbornly relentless problem. How was he going to land this thing? He had to try, however impossible, he couldn't just give up even if he should. Because it had to happen just when he'd finally been given something he'd fight tooth and nail to keep. Just when he thought he'd gotten a second chance.

"Please," he whispered to the floor, bracing his hand against the glass ceiling of the platform above him. "I know what I deserve, I know what I said…but help me one more time, Old Girl. Help me be selfish."

The ship gave a low moan, and he sighed in defeat.

"You've always been the better of us," he acknowledged, walking over to a side panel, his fingers brushing over it. "I might have to help myself."

"Doctor?" River's voice made him jump, and he spun about to see her wrapped in a bathrobe descending the stairs. He did his best to paste a goofy smile on his face.

"What are you doing up, Professor Song?"

She gave a sleepy smile. "Couldn't sleep thinking about you giving yourself neck pain in that chair of yours." She chuckled, and then instantly dropped all warmth from her face and tone. "But that's the entrance to the engine room. What are _you_ doing?"

"Ah, well, just thinking that maybe I should do some maintenance. We obviously have some sort of problem, so—"

"That problem has nothing to do with the engine, so you should leave her alone," River commanded, eyes flashing. But then her brow furrowed and he saw the weariness and concern to her expression. "It's dangerous down there even for you. So please, not unless it's necessary."

He was trapped, of course. "Yes, dear," he agreed tiredly, stepping away from the panel. She rewarded him with a kiss that, though he was glad to receive, he could not bring himself to really respond to, and she drew back, a frown to her lips.

"Come to bed, Sweetie. You should rest."

He allowed her to slip her hand into his and lead him through corridors, but he already knew her attempts to comfort and restore him were futile. He should rest, allow his brain a reprieve, and attack the problem from a brand new off-the-wall angle that only he could think of, snatching victory from the jaws of a certain end. But there would be no more rest for the Doctor. And no more rest for him.

**Ok, so hopefully this update was good enough for the super-long wait. I'm hoping I've both answered some of your questions, and given you new ones, so we'll see if that was a success or not. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys, did you miss me? I'm back from vacation finally and ready with a couple of updates for you all! It's really just a matter of transcribing and making final edits, but hopefully I'll be able to make up for my three-week hiatus during these next few days. At any rate, I'm so thankful for all your feedback and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Nine**

It was strange; Rory's automatic first instinct was to excuse himself from the conference room and go in search of his wife and father, yet looking at the increasingly distressed director he couldn't bring himself to. Amy and Brian would be fine, but Kate Stewart obviously needed support right now, and at least one of the Ponds needed to stay informed.

"So you would describe it as what, Captain, a- a fit of nerves?"

"I don't know, Kate," Jack sighed. The director had switched him to a private line to talk about the recent episode concerning Mickey Smith. "It was like he went temporarily insane for a minute—just shouting at a blank wall! But I don't think we should talk long, Director, I'm sure Mickey knows I'm talking about him."

"How is he now?"

"Fine, Martha's having him drink some water. Sorry for all the delays."

"I'd rather the mission be completed successfully than quickly, Jack. In fact, I'd recommend you stop for the night soon. It could be the fatigue is affecting you," Kate suggested, and Rory found himself agreeing.

"Yes, ma'am. Oh, I think I'll set up a watch shift just in case—I doubt that Warden will be sleeping."

"Good idea. Keep up the reports if anything happens."

"Alright. Good night, Kate, everybody." Even under pressure, Jack managed to keep some semblance of his charm.

Now that the line was dead, the director sat back and rubbed at her temples. "Sarah Jane, if a whole ship is required for a jail cell, how powerful is this prisoner likely to be?"

The journalist frowned. "In my experience—very. We can only hope that a prisoner of the Daleks is our friend."

"It could be that we don't even have to worry," Rory offered and both women looked at him. "We already know that hole in the ship was made by something or someone on the inside. The prisoner probably escaped through there."

Instead of looking comforted, however, Kate's expression turned grimmer. "Now the question is whether the prisoner escaped somewhere out in space or here." Rory blanched and found himself wishing, as he often did, that he hadn't said anything at all. "It's alright, Rory," the blonde gave him a wan smile, "I suppose it is good to know the taskforce is relatively safe. But what of the voices or- or—visions, we have to call them. What can cause _those_?"

"I mean, I've been trapped in places where I've seen things or even heard laughing children, but none of those things had anything to do with the Daleks," he responded.

"It might have something more to do with the prisoner, then," Sarah Jane suggested.

Kate nodded. "I think I'll have a search done of UNIT's database, see if there's anything in the records that can cause visions or the like."

"Great. How long might that take?"

"UNIT's been in business for quite some time, Mr. Williams," was her wry reply.

"Ok," he nodded, trying not to feel disappointed at the prospect of another wait. "I think I'll check up on Amy and the kids."

With that he stood and exited the room, heading down the hallway of the temporary base. He spotted his father once more in the cafeteria, struggling to balance two full trays. "Here, dad, I can take one," he told him. "Some dinner, huh?" He commented as his father led them presumably to where Amy and the Smith-Jones girls were.

"Yes, Michelle's got some formula, of course, but Mandy is very hungry. Most of this is for her," Brian replied, sounding relatively calm. He couldn't help but worry, though.

"Is this ok, dad?" Rory wanted to know. "Hanging around a base, eating mess hall food, watching kids?"

"It's fine. A bit unexpected, but fine. It's a little exciting, actually, I never knew you two did this kind of thing—"

"Well, usually it's a bit more 'running for your life' than this, but yeah," he corrected.

"I'll be glad not to experience that, then," his father said, scrutinizing him. "Everyone already seems to think this is dangerous enough."

"It is," he assured, not wanting the other man to think he was some sort of risk taker or thrill seeker.

"So then where is he?"

Rory blinked. "Who?"

"This Doctor friend of yours. Everyone keeps mentioning him—you, Amy, the staff in the corridors. Isn't this what he does? Showing up for the danger?"

"Well he- he can't right now. I'm not sure why," he defended weakly. "But he wants to be here, believe me. He'll figure it out."

They'd stopped outside a door now, and his father turned to him with a serious expression. "Well for those people in that ship's sake, I hope it's sooner rather than later." Before Rory could say anything, the other man entered the room and he followed after.

"Mr. Rory!" Mandy greeted happily, so he tried his best to smile. But it was hard when he was so busy worrying.

OoO

"Jenny, that's the fourth game in a row you've let me win and I know I'm not that good. What's wrong?"

She did her best to focus on Donna's concerned face. She'd been teaching the redhead to play chess in an effort to occupy both their minds. They had set up the board on the first level of the console room, since that was where everyone had been. But sometime during the third game, the start of Donna's winning streak, her father had slammed down the tools he was using and, muttering darkly under his breath, had hurried off down a corridor, River following after with a troubled expression.

"I'm sorry, Donna," Jenny apologized, "I guess I'm just finding it hard to concentrate."

"Let's give this up then," the temp recommended and so they set about packing away the pieces and the board. "Your dad'll be fine," the woman commented as they did so. "He just gets in these spats with his ship every once in a while."

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean she just doesn't want to go somewhere and he either convinces her or finds some other way to go."

"I understand that, but Donna, you're talking like the TARDIS is perfectly fine."

Her friend's mouth opened in a little 'o' and her eyes darted to the side, which Jenny had catalogued as the woman's guilty face, but she didn't get the chance to reply.

"That's because she is." Her father was standing at the top of the stairs, hands braced on the railing with a smile on his face. As he moved down toward them he continued, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with the ship whatsoever. She's in perfect working order."

Jenny stood up and grinned, relieved. "That's good."

"No it isn't," he stated flatly.

She blinked. "It isn't?" Donna stood up beside her, looking wary.

"It isn't," he confirmed, his lips once more turned into a frown. "It means that she's doing this on purpose."

River entered in time to hear and said, "You don't know that." But she seemed tense.

Her father spun to face the professor. "Oh no? Jenny, your bracelet, if you please." Without even looking he held his hand out to her, palm-up.

She glanced down at her wrist. "My vortex manipulator?" She inquired, surprised he would even acknowledge the device he so detested. He merely waggled his fingers impatiently, and so she unfastened it, dropping it into his waiting palm.

Her step-mum marched down the stairs, looking quite stern. "Doctor, if you think you're just going to leave us here while you—"

"As much as that's a nice idea," he spoke right over her as he slipped the little bracelet over his wrist and programmed it, "it's not going to work." He pressed the button.

There was the usual crackle of electricity—and then a great plume of acrid, dark smoke.

"Bloody hell!" Donna exclaimed, pulling her back.

"That's not supposed to happen!" Jenny yelled, alarmed.

But then there was a loud coughing and as the smoke dissipated she could make out the figure of her father standing in the exact same place, with one hand over his mouth and nose and another waving away the foul-smelling clouds. He didn't look too worse for wear; his hair was slightly more puffed up and on end, and his face and clothes were slightly sooty.

"That was the TARDIS' doing!" He explained. "She's keeping me here."

"Why?" Donna demanded.

"Because she thinks she's supposed to. But things have changed!" It was clear he was now addressing his ship as he placed both hands on the console. "Martha, Mickey, Jack, Gregory—they need me! Aren't you supposed to take me where I need to go?" He punched a button to no affect and ripped away from the console with a growl.

River followed after him down the corridor once again. "If you'd just tell us what's down there, we could try and work out a solution," her voice echoed back to them.

"Like I said," Donna muttered after a moment of silence. "He'll be fine."

"But why won't the TARDIS listen to him?" Jenny asked, feeling more than a bit of frustration for the ship. "It's clear he desperately wants to go there. And if they do need him—"

"Maybe she's decided she needs him more," the red-haired woman offered. "Think about it, if it's really so dangerous, she might have decided she didn't want to risk it."

"But what about the others? They shouldn't be there, then!" She fretted.

Donna looked uneasy as well. "He'll think of something."

"Doctor, _no_!" They plainly heard River's cry and jumped. Jenny and Donna turned fearful eyes on each other as they heard their fellow travel companions approach. Though equally loud, River's tone was one of rising panic while her father's remained a steely calm. "You can't do this to her!"

"I have before."

"Yes, but you know it hurts her now, and you shouldn't!"

"There've been a lot of things I shouldn't have done and it's never stopped me. She's left me no choice."

"There's always a choice, you stupid man! Don't you always say that?"

"Rule One. I say a lot of things, Professor Song, and almost none of them are true. I'm not the shining, noble hero I'm made out to be—"

"Don't try that with me!" There was a harsh slap of skin on skin, and again Jenny and Donna cringed. "Don't you think I already know that? So throw that horrid thing out and—" The archeologist broke off in a pained gasp.

A moment later her father stormed in, dragging the blonde woman along with a painfully tight grip on her wrist. His left cheek was still an angry red. In his other hand his knuckles were white, clenched around the handle of a sledgehammer.

"Dad," Jenny tried to say, but it was as if her voice had been choked, and all that came out was a half-whisper.

He released her step-mum, who stumbled away a few steps unable to help rubbing at her wrist for a moment, eyes stinging with unshed tears. The sledgehammer came up, his face a cold mask of stone, and the TARDIS made not a sound. Donna took her hand.

But her father didn't move. He stood there breathing harshly through his nose, arm straight up in the air for the longest time. And then his shoulders slumped. And his arm bent. And his fingers slackened. The sledgehammer clattered harmlessly to the floor. And his face crumpled.

"Oh, what's the use," he breathed in a dulled, glum sort of way. He staggered back and dropped into the pilot's chair, head in his hands.

Jenny exchanged incredibly worried looks with her friend and step-mum, and the three of them approached cautiously. He glanced up, but it was clear he was hardly focusing on them at all. "Is everything ok with the TARDIS now, dad?"

"Hm? Ah, she's fine, just stuck in a real time flux—time passes for us the same as it does at our destination," he explained. It lacked the usual accompaniment of gestures and lively expression; everything about him now was tired. "As soon as the taskforce is finished, we can land. I can take you home then, Donna." He nodded to the temp who looked completely thrown.

"Well, great, Spaceman, but I wasn't too worried about that. Bit more scared for you right now. But you mean 'take me home' as in a visit, right?"

Either he didn't hear or was choosing to ignore the redhead, for he instead took up his wife's hand, the one he had taken hold of so recently. "I hurt you." It wasn't a question.

"It was nothing," was the curly-haired woman's immediate response, but he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss over the pulse point on her wrist. His eyes locked with hers.

"Forgiven?"

"Always and completely, my love."

He let go and gave his best smile, the one Jenny knew was fake. "Right then, I think I might reorganize some of the rooms while we're stuck here. So, grab a bag—maybe a suitcase—and take your favorite clothes from the wardrobe room or books from the library, cause you might not see them for a while."

Jenny was beyond perplexed by this sudden shift in mood, but followed Donna's lead. The temp shrugged and ascended the staircase with a mutter of, "If it makes you happy, Martian." They both waited for River, who hesitated before taking her leave. But Jenny turned back before exiting to see her father curled in on himself.

"I'm sorry, Old Girl…it is my promises you're keeping."

"Dad?" He sprung up instantly. "Shouldn't you get your things?"

He tugged on his braces, not meeting her eyes for a moment. "Ah, I'll wait for you girls to be done first," his smile faltered and he murmured, "Waiting is all I can do now."

Jenny gave a tentative smile for him. "Ok."

But as she left, she wished she'd done better, for she was sure her father had sunk right back in to whatever dark place he could see for himself. She placed one hand on the wall of the corridor and whispered, "Please let those promises between you two be good ones." The TARDIS' answering hum was mournful at best.

OoO

"Alright, let's stop here," Jack called from behind, and Martha couldn't help but sigh in relief. They'd continued on for a time after stopping for Mickey, who had been moved to the middle of their formation. Every time she had glanced back, her husband had looked incredibly sullen, but she knew inwardly he was troubled.

And she could hardly blame him! She herself thought she saw things moving in the shadows, and a murmur of voices seemed ever-present now. Once, very clearly she'd heard a whisper though the corridors: "The skies are full of diamonds." Martha shuddered just remembering it, but willed herself not to get pulled in. She had to stick to the mission.

Unfortunately, even as they stopped, the Warden took another step. She and Gregory both reached out an arm. "Wait!"

The blank eyes turned once again on her. "What is it?"

"We're stopping for a few hours," she explained, "to sleep."

"Sleep?" The Warden tilted her head, a sign Martha had come to associate with mild confusion. Then the red-haired woman blinked. "An energy-replenishing process you require."

"That's right," she encouraged. "Don't you sleep?"

"It is not required."

"Course it isn't," Mickey grumbled. The men had already unrolled their sleeping gear.

"Guess I'll take first watch," she remarked, sitting back against a cold wall.

"No, I can—" her husband began, but she shook her head.

"It's fine, I'm not tired yet." Gregory placed his mat down at her feet, lying perpendicular and facing out toward the darkened corridor. Jack was nearby, his gun tucked under his arm like some parody of a teddy-bear, and she marveled at how on-edge they'd become. Mickey was still stubbornly sitting up, so she added, "I'll feel much better if you've rested." He very grudgingly nodded, though she could see how drained he was, and settled down on his mat. She took his hand and smiled. "Love you."

"Love you," he mumbled back, already drifting off. She shook her head fondly, only to catch a glimpse of the Warden staring at their clasped hands.

"Holding hands: an act to convey affection or seek comfort."

Martha sighed. "Don't you have anything in your databank _besides_ definitions?"

"My databank contains my instructions or facts relating to them," was the simple answer.

"Of course," she replied, but had to wonder what hand-holding had to do with Dalek instructions.

So she sat and watched and the Warden stood and watched. It went on like this for nearly half her shift until—

"Hello?" Amy's Scottish tone came through the earpiece. The others had turned theirs off while they slept and so she was the only one who heard.

"Yes, this is Martha, what is it?"

"Hey. Um, well, I hate to bother you, but we're trying to put the kids down to sleep and—" the redhead was cut off by an all too familiar wail. "Michelle won't sleep."

"I told them you had to sing the song, Mummy, cause Michelle has to hear the song," Mandy supplied.

"That's great, honey," Martha praised, but grimaced. For as soon as the baby had begun her crying over the line, the voices had started up in earnest again, growing in volume. "I'll just, uh, I'll just- sing the song then, shall I?" Jack rolled over and Mickey frowned in his sleep as a particularly loud cry echoed down the corridor toward them. Martha took a deep breath.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word," she started quiet, unwilling to wake the others. "Mummy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mummy's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

But she could barely hear herself over the terrible wails! All the wailing children, and where was it coming from? The mysterious voices, or her own children? So she tried in a braver voice, "And if that diamond ring don't shine, Mummy's gonna buy you a fishing line." Oh, it had to be her children, she knew their cries! "And if that—" her voice shook and her mouth felt dry. "And if—"

"And if that fishing line don't cast far, Mummy's gonna buy you a white point star," the Warden sang soft and low, and all was quiet.

"She's sleeping fine now, Martha, thanks," Amy informed her.

"No problem," she breathed, barely aware of it as she was so fixated on the Warden. "You know that song."

"'Hush, Little Baby': an Earth lullaby," the Warden recited, and she nearly rolled her eyes. "He used to sing it to the children."

Martha sat up straighter. "Who did?"

"The prisoner."

"He sang a lullaby to the children. The children here?"

"Yes. The children in the air."

She had to think about that for a moment, but reasoned that that could be the only literal description of the voices. "So they were here while he was here?"

"Yes. He brought them here." So it _had_ been the prisoner's doing. "I had thought they had gone, but you brought them back."

"How? We haven't done anything! Not anything differently from you, anyway. What's their purpose?"

"A layer of defense, security."

"Ok," Martha nodded before a thought occurred to her. "But, hang on, how come Mickey saw his Gran? The prisoner couldn't have known to put her there."

"It feeds off the data or memories of living beings. The longer you remain here, the longer it has to adapt."

That didn't sound good at all. "How come it hasn't fed off of you, then?" The Warden hardly seemed to notice the strange apparitions at all.

"I am not alive."

Martha looked away from the Warden's impassive expression. "But you have a body. You can speak, you can move, you can- store data. You had a name. I know you don't have a pulse, but—"

"The outside shell is unimportant. It is merely the vessel that holds Dalek technology. My superiors did note, however, that my exterior form would allow me to more effectively guard the prisoner."

Martha scoffed. "Seems like everybody was trying to do that." She froze for a moment, then looked up at the Warden. "You said the prisoner brought the voices to add more security. Security to what?"

"The prison."

"How?"

"The children would grow louder as he went further out in the corridors, and he could not bear to hear them."

"Why would he do that to himself?" Martha was baffled. "Why make it harder to escape?"

"He never wanted to."

She stared at the Warden in shock. Before she could formulate a response or another question, however, a hand landed on her shoulder.

"It's my turn to watch, Dr. Jones," Gregory informed her. She opened her mouth to protest, but the young soldier shook his head. "You need to rest as much as we do, ma'am."

Reluctantly, Martha sighed and set up her things next to Mickey. As much as she wanted to interrogate the Warden on everything she knew about the prisoner, she was also aware that was not the mission. The safety of the Earth needed to come first.

"You should rest too, ma'am." Martha cracked an eye open to see the lieutenant was addressing the Warden. "You were walking much slower before we stopped."

"I do not require sleep."

"Probably not, but human or machine, you require care." The man gestured to his mat and after a pause the Warden walked to it and lay down on her back.

Martha wasn't sure if the Dalek puppet could sleep, but knew it would be best if she tried to. She was finding it incredibly difficult, though; her short conversation with the red-haired woman had left her bursting with hundreds of new questions. And in her mind she was rewriting all her assumptions about this mysterious prisoner. Why had he been imprisoned and why had he eventually escaped? She knew so much more now and yet was no closer to figuring it out.

**The taskforce is closer than ever to their goal, but are also finding themselves confounded by both the Dalek's puppet and prisoner. And what awaits the TARDIS team now that the Doctor has resigned himself. You'll find out very soon! Thanks so much for your patience and for reading, and please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the longer-than-predicted delay, getting back on track after near a month away is more difficult than I perceived! Still, better than the usual wait. Ok, guys, this one is the big one. Why? Well, I suppose I should just let you read, but I think you'll find the answers to what you've been asking. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Ten**

Gregory sighed as he hefted his pack back on his shoulders. Shortly after three, Mickey had taken over the watch, allowing him to use his mat after scoffing at the idea that the Warden needed one at all. It was half-past nine now, and the Dalek puppet was talking to the Captain.

"We are very close now; we should reach the control room before noon."

"Best news I've heard in a while," the immortal man remarked, the relief barely concealed in his tone or expression. "But first, I think we all need to talk." Gregory wasn't the only one to raise an eyebrow, but he and the others gathered together. "Now I know we're all in a little over our heads. We're fighting something we barely understand and no one said this mission would be easy. But I need you focused, alright? I need each and every one of you."

The three of them nodded and Gregory felt some sense of calm return to him. So they began to walk again, and he found himself once more in near awe of how deep and cavernous this place was. It reminded him almost of the Sontaran ship where his Nestene Duplicate had been created and reported to while his real body had been held captive. Except that ship had been a hive of activity, while this place was dark and deserted. It was very easy to feel alone here.

The Warden herself reminded him of his past as an Auton, and he guessed that was why he felt such a level of pity for her. Impassive and monotonous before, she was now more inclined to answer them or even to speak without prompting, and he wondered if perhaps they were waking her up, like they'd woken up the rest of this ship that she claimed had lain dormant ever since the prisoner's escape.

"Was the prisoner able to open any doors?" He asked, the thought coming into his head as he watched her open another door in this never-ending jail-maze. It occurred to him now that all the panels glowed green at her prompting, while for them they were a yellow color.

"No," the Warden replied.

"Then how did he get out?"

"I would patrol the ship, then come to him each day. I would walk the prisoner through the corridors once and return him."

"Wasn't that against instructions?" He wondered. Though he'd never seen a Dalek, he doubted they would allow such liberty.

"Yes."

It was the way she said 'prisoner', too; as if it wasn't just a word or title, but an endearment. How much of her blank nature was due to the escapee's absence?

"We have reached the central column," the Warden announced. "All of the necessary facilities are located here." The Dalek puppet waved her hand before a panel that lit up green. A door slid open to reveal a lift.

"Out of the maze," Mickey said wryly. As they rode up, the voices grew louder again, as if they knew the intentions of the taskforce to silence them.

"You're leaving for good this time, aren't you?"

"Please, don't!"

"You promised!"

Among the children's voices were also those of his buddies, fallen in combat and crying out to him to save them, to stop the pain.

"It hurts! God, it hurts!"

"Greg, help me! For God's sake, Greg!"

He gritted his teeth and resigned himself to endure them, and saw Martha slip her hand into her husband's. Beside him, Captain Jack sucked in a breath and squared his shoulders. The lift stopped and the doors opened into a room with a large archway in front of them. Through there, Gregory could see what had to be the control room.

"Alright," Mickey strode forward, motioning for Jack to follow after. The two men quickly got to work, leaving Gregory to stand watch outside with the women, human or otherwise.

"And is there a way out of here?" Martha asked their guide, perhaps more in an effort to distract herself from whatever demons from her past she was being forced to hear.

"In the event of emergency of shutdown, the ship will open and a ramp will descend from this room," the Warden informed them.

"Then what's down here?" The dark-haired woman crossed to the side of the room where a second, smaller archway was. The ground beyond it sloped down in a spiral that descended into darkness.

But his view of it was suddenly obscured, for he blinked and then standing in front of the archway was—Ross!

His brother was dressed in uniform, looking proud and tall just as he had before he'd left home on assignment for UNIT. But his posture, like any soldier's, clearly showed he was guarding the archway, that they were not to enter.

"Dr. Jones—" he reached an arm out, but his breath caught as the woman stepped through, shattering the illusion of his brother completely, and a moment later the dim lighting of his torch could no longer see her. Gregory hurried after, reaching the bottom and almost colliding with her back where she'd stopped.

They were in an entirely different room now. It was hardly bigger than a walk-in closet, but contained a desk and chair, the only pieces of furniture they'd seen on this spaceship. There was a lantern on the desk that had burned out some time ago.

But it was the paper—all the paper—that caught the eye. Countless crumpled balls littered the floor, and the whole desk was strewn with sheets. They approached it, the discarded wads skittering across the floor in their wake or crunched underfoot, and Martha gently picked up the top scroll, yellowed and curling in at the corners, and blew lightly, raising a small cloud of dust. It hardly made a difference; the intricate swirling script on the page was unintelligible to him.

Martha traced one of the circles with a finger, seeming lost in thought, before looking up at him. "This was his room. The prisoner's."

"Yes." They both jumped and turned to face the Warden, who stood observing them and the room itself. "He stayed here many of your days and nights."

"There's no bed," he noted.

"He did not sleep. He would not."

"How awful," the female doctor said, glancing about the tiny space sadly. "What an awful, miserable room."

"Do you not notice the silence?" The Dalek puppet countered, and it struck him then just how still and quiet everything was. "The children do not speak here, they do not cry. For him, it was what you humans call a sanctuary."

Gregory could not help thinking what a pathetic sanctuary it was. He dropped his gaze and caught sight of a little bag. Crouching down, he examined the contents.

Martha was still questioning the Warden. "What are these papers? What was he doing?"

"Working. To what end, he would not say, but he did not want to be found."

"Is that why he created the voices?"

There were a couple old, moldy bits of some type of food in the bag, and with a grimace he bit down on the corner of one. Though stale, it was still slightly sweet, and he tucked the bag away in a pocket. It might be of some interest to the Director.

"I do not know," the Warden answered.

Gregory stood back up. "Why did the Daleks even take him prisoner?"

"Your armies take prisoners, do they not?"

There was a loud electric hum for a moment and then everything was still. "We've shut it down!" Jack called in triumph. Gregory and Martha shared a grin, but the woman turned back to their guide.

"We'll be leaving now. But you could come with us, maybe?" The dark-haired woman was clearly as torn as he. A creation of the Daleks could not be tolerated, and yet after all this creation had done for them, they couldn't just abandon her to back to this darkness to eventually be destroyed. "I can't guarantee your freedom, but our director—"

"It is of no consequence," the Warden interrupted. "My task is ended with the ship." A rumble began, which he could only assume meant that the structure was opening up, providing their way out. "And he is here," the red-haired woman sighed with a warm smile. "My prisoner…" Her eyes slipped closed and she fell forward.

"Warden!" Alarmed, he just managed to catch her and turned to look at the shocked Martha. "Dr. Jones," he implored, voice thick with something close to dread, and she moved into action, bringing her ear to the Dalek woman's mouth, then lifting an eyelid, and lastly, checking the non-existent pulse.

"She was never alive, Gregory," she said in a wavering voice. "But I think- I think she's gone."

"Martha! Gregory!" They grew aware of their friends calling them, and with a heavy sigh he adjusted the Warden in his arms and made for the archway. He glanced back to see Martha roll up the paper that had so caught her interest and carefully stow it in her pack. She held his gaze for a moment, before nodding to the archway.

Together they went up the spiral and blinked in the sunlight let in by their newly created exit. The voices were silent up here now too, gone forever, he realized.

"What happened?" Once his eyes had adjusted, Gregory could see the Captain looking with some concern at the Warden.

"She collapsed when the ship shut down," Martha explained softly.

"It killed her?" Mickey looked almost sorry.

"In a way."

"A puppet with her strings cut," Gregory murmured, looking down at the lifeless face.

"I had no idea…" the dark-skinned man hung his head. Jack put a hand on his shoulder and looked around at them all.

"Whoever she was before the Daleks got to her finally gets to rest, think of that. Now how about we get out of here. Good work, everybody."

Gregory thought he'd never heard a better suggestion in his life. So, taking care to make certain the Warden was secure in his hold, he followed after the others down the ramp, glad to be leaving this nightmare behind.

OoO

Amy had just finished feeding Michelle more of her formula when a breathless Sarah Jane burst through the door. "Jack says they've reached the control room—Mickey's shutting the ship down!"

"What?" Amy and Rory both jumped up from their chairs and Brian looked up from his own breakfast in surprise.

"Are Mummy and Daddy coming back?" Mandy squealed in delight.

"Yes, any minute now, come on!"

So they all abandoned their meals and rushed outside, Amy carrying the baby. Kate was already standing before the ship, obviously wanting to be there to see the taskforce safely back. No words were exchanged and they waited in tense silence for what seemed ages.

Then a man came running out of the UNIT base. "Director, the energy field is down!"

"Mickey must have done it, then," Rory said softly to her in a hopeful tone and she nodded. They had to wait again until suddenly a seam opened down the ship and with a loud rumble began to open wider and wider, making a wedge of sorts. Out of the new opening slid a ramp, touching down some twenty feet from where they stood. And within minutes their friends appeared.

"Yes!"

"Oh, thank goodness!"

They cheered as the four made their way down. As soon as they'd touched down on grass they moved forward, Mandy racing ahead of everyone else.

"Mummy! Daddy!"

Mickey was in front, and so picked up his daughter and spun her around once. "Oh, how's my girl?" He set her down and took the younger from Amy's arms. "Thanks for watching them."

"No need for thanks," she assured, "we're just glad you're all ok."

He grinned and continued through the group. "You're Rory's dad, right?"

"Oh, yes. Brian Williams, very glad to meet you." To her left, Jack and Kate were shaking hands.

"A job well done, Captain."

"Thank you, Director. Now come here, Kate." The immortal man pulled the woman into a hug before she could protest and Amy suppressed a laugh.

"Gregory, is that—?" Her husband asked, and she turned to see the lieutenant. How she had not noticed before, she did not know, but the young soldier was carrying a woman, a complete stranger to them.

"Yes, sir, the Warden. She…shut down with the ship." It was clear this had affected the man, and no wonder with his own past.

"Oh, Gregory," she breathed and did her best to hug him with the burden he held. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok, ma'am. But before she- before she died, she said the prisoner—"

Two blurs, blonde and red, abruptly broke into the small crowd in a whirl of hugs, and Amy was briefly embraced by both Jenny and Donna, who quickly moved on to the taskforce itself.

"I'm so happy you're all alright!"

"I was terrified, you have no idea—"

"How did you two get here?" Sarah Jane broke through their joyful babble, and though Amy was certainly thrilled to see them, she wanted to know herself.

"Oh, a few minutes ago the TARDIS sort of dinged and River said we were out of the real time flux, so she flew us here!" Her granddaughter explained excitedly in one breath.

"We were so worried—but I never doubted you for one minute," Donna was telling Jack.

"Clearly we have a lot of pent-up energy," a familiar voice remarked from behind her, and Amy whirled around with a grin.

"River!" At the sound of his daughter's name, Rory made his way over and the three embraced. "It's all over now, isn't it?" Amy asked with relief, hardly believing their luck. Content except for one though that wouldn't leave her alone. "Where's the Doctor?"

It was then that she noticed Martha standing amongst everyone, but looking transfixed by something beyond them, and Amy turned to see the TARDIS sitting on the grass, its pilot standing in front of the doors, expression solemn. He approached, and the sheer gravity of his face and walk caused them to part, allowing the Doctor to come to a stop in front of Martha.

"Well, well…Martha Jones, it had to be you. I knew it'd be you. Let's see it."

"See what?" Mickey took a step forward with a wary look, but his wife was already pulling something out of her pack. It looked like a scroll of some kind.

"I found this on the ship, but I couldn't read it—because it's in Gallifreyan, isn't it?" The alien nodded and the dark-haired woman continued. "Could you—"

"I already know what it says," the Time Lord interrupted, and Martha's eyes widened in shock.

"It was _you_," she breathed. "You were the prisoner!" There were several gasps, and Amy felt her jaw drop. Martha carefully began unrolling the paper, the circular ink patterns gradually being revealed. "Then what does this—"

"No!" It was River who cut her off this time with a cry, and lunged forward as though to snatch up the scroll and rip it to pieces.

But the Doctor snagged her by the waist and trapped her arms. Still she struggled, kicking and shrieking at him. "River, you can't!" He shouted in a commanding tone. "It'll be obstruction of evidence, punishable by death!"

"I don't care, you idiot!"

"Evidence?" Director Stewart stepped forward. "Evidence of what, Doctor?"

River slumped against him, her fight gone, as he answered. "Of the crime. Of my crime."

"What crime?" Amy demanded, having found her voice. She found her fear again, too, the dread rising as he faced her with an ancient, somber stare, the pain fresh and clear in his eyes.

"The destruction of Gallifrey. The death of the Time Lords. The end of the Last Great Time War." He drew a shaky breath and nodded at the scroll in Martha's hands, who stared at it in newfound horror. "There's the blueprint! I planned it all, down to the very last Moment. And now you have the proof."

"Then what do we do?" Jack asked quietly, looking just as thrown, just as lost as the rest of them. The Doctor released River, who stumbled away with a hand to her face in a failed attempt to hide her tears, and held out his arms.

"Arrest me."

"_What_?" Amy didn't know how many of them said it.

"You have the evidence, you have the perpetrator. I'm turning myself in, arrest me!"

"We're not going to do that, you dumbo!" Donna exclaimed. "We don't care about any of that—sorry about the Time Lords, but you had to. So I think you're acquitted!"

"You don't understand!" He yelled back, the aggravation with them all too evident. "It doesn't matter how you feel, you'll be aiding and abetting a criminal!"

"Then get out of here," Rory spoke up, and the Doctor looked at him in shock. "Didn't you hear me? Run!" The Centurion commanded, and the alien flinched. "Get in your box and never come back, it's what you do!"

But the Doctor shook his head. "Not this time, Rory. The TARDIS has sealed herself—I made her promise long ago."

"My vortex manipulator—" Jenny started desperately.

"I fried it. It won't work."

"Why are you doing this?" Sarah Jane demanded. "Who's going to punish us if we don't arrest you?"

"The Shadow Proclamation," he answered, and Amy felt everyone freeze just at the name. "They'll be on their way—or they're already here and have been listening to your communications, letting you do the work. Then they'll send down a Tribunal Council."

As she glanced about, it was clear none of the others knew what a Tribunal Council was either, but none of them liked the sound of it.

"But this must be it," he said with a look of dawning realization. "How the Earth officially becomes a member…by adhering to Galactic Law." He nodded once to himself definitively. "Yes, you have to do it, or it's the Earth's destruction—please! And I only ask one thing."

"And that is?" Kate prompted, looking almost deathly pale with the weight of this decision. The Doctor made his way through their group, coming to a stop before Gregory.

"The Warden," he said softly, tucking a strand of the woman's hair behind her ear. "I ask that you have her cremated…and then bury her."

"Sir," Gregory asked tentatively, "who was she?"

The Time Lord did not lift his gaze from the Dalek puppet's face, and stroked her cheek once before clasping his hands behind his back. "My first wife."

River seemed to waver between wanting to keep a respectful distance and wanting to reach out to the man she now called her husband, one arm lifted uncertainly, the most unsure she'd ever seen her. Amy felt hollow, and tears unbidden sprung to her eyes. The jangle of metal on metal only increased them as Kate stepped forward with a severe frown and handcuffed him. "Dr. Jones, have the paper taken to Evidence." She placed a hand on his back and began leading him back up to the base. Martha followed with a wretched expression.

"No, please—Dad!" Jenny darted forward.

"Jack," the Time Lord called, pleading, and with an incredibly unwilling look the Captain caught up the girl, restraining her.

Like her step-mother, Jenny struggled. "Let go! Please, you can't do this! Dad!" When they disappeared through the door the blonde went limp, and River took her from the immortal man, wrapping her arms around the crying girl.

Brian seemed lost and uncertain, but was looking at the two sadly. Mandy had her arms wrapped around her father's leg, looking upset and confused while Michelle began to wail. Jack put an arm each around Donna and Sarah Jane, who both had tears streaming down their faces, and Gregory stood there holding the Doctor's Warden. Amy clung to Rory and voiced the one question they all had. On the inside she felt flooded with terror, outrage, desperation even, and yet it came out sounding small, dull, and helpless. "What do we do?"

**So, anybody surprised? You guys were getting really close with a lot of your guesses, but here we are! And that is quite the cliffhanger, I'll just apologize right now. So we've reached probably the halfway-ish mark of this story, and I hope to continue to keep you on your toes with the second part. Thanks so much for reading and please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok, so I definitely think I've kept you guys waiting long enough. Sorry about that. I also want to apologize for any confusion—the Doctor was a prisoner on the Dalek ship during the Time War, meaning sometime between his eighth and ninth regeneration. There is no 'future Doctor' (I'm not nearly as ambitious as Mr. Moffat), which is why the Eleventh Doctor both knew what the ship was and what was written on the scroll—he'd already done it. So hopefully that clears all that up.**

**At any rate, I'm constantly inspired by your reviews, favorites, and follows, and it really motivates me to continue writing. Thanks so much for your support, and enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eleven**

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Colonel—"

"There is no need for thanks, Director, it is merely my duty," the officer replied, crisp and clean-cut as ever. "And anyway, it sounds a rather urgent matter."

Kate sighed; it was. Just minutes ago their radars had picked up a new alien craft slowly descending through the Earth's atmosphere—the Shadow Proclamation, she had no doubt. Though the UNIT director had never had any experience with the intergalactic body, she knew it was up to her to make sure this first encounter did not go badly. And if it did, she'd need her military sector at the ready.

"Colonel Mace, the taskforce sent into the Dalek craft returned with a scroll, a key piece of missing evidence to what happened in the Last Great Time War," she briefed him. "The Shadow Proclamation is on their way to retrieve that evidence…and to try the man that evidence implicates."

"Where is the Doctor?"

"In custody." The older man looked just as concerned by that as she felt. "He's insisted. We've done our best to make him comfortable, however."

"Do we know what will happen in this trial?" Colonel Mace inquired. "Their court proceedings, their punishments?"

"I'm afraid what knowledge we have is small. The Doctor has said that it will be a Tribunal. Whatever misgivings I have about this on a personal level, Colonel, I must agree with the Doctor. We must cooperate with them."

The officer nodded. "Yes, you're right, of course." He hesitated a moment, then added, "But if it is at all possible, I think you ought to request that the Tribunal hold their trial here, on Earth." She opened her mouth, but he hurried on, "I realize that we cannot hope to combat them should they become militant, but I think it is within Earth's best interest to make ourselves part of the proceedings. And after all, should they go back to—wherever it is they come from—we shall have no way of knowing what has become of the Doctor."

"You're right on all points, Colonel," she finally managed to get in, and he snapped his mouth shut, looking just the slightest bit relieved. "Since this is the hour upon which Earth becomes part of the intergalactic community, I believe we should participate, as much as possible. I am also concerned for our friend."

"Oh, I never said," the Colonel blustered, obviously uncomfortable for having been called on his feelings, and she actually managed a smile.

"Of course not."

"Ma'am." 2nd Lieutenant Jenkins was at the door, his face pale. "They're here."

She tensed in her chair before nodding stiffly. "Thank you, lieutenant. Have someone bring the scroll from Evidence."

"Yes, ma'am. They've also requested the Doctor. Shall I get him?"

Kate exchanged a glance with the Colonel. "Yes." The young soldier departed and she and Colonel Mace both stood. The older man held the door for her as she exited and Kate held her head high as she exited the base, ignoring the excited, nervous whispers from personnel that followed in her wake. They passed a room that held the remaining three taskforce members as well as the rest of the Doctor's friends and family, and the whole group stood as one, filing out of the room and making something of a procession behind them.

Kate stepped out into the sunshine to see the Doctor restrained, standing to her left next to the lieutenant. A corporal on his other side held the scroll. But just in front of her was the real aweing thing.

A woman, an albino wearing a black gown, stood flanked by two Judoon. She and the Colonel approached the impressive-looking trio. "I am Director Stewart, the head of UNIT. I understand that we have evidence and a- suspect of yours. We are more than willing to cooperate with you." She motioned the corporal forward and he handed the scroll to one of the walking rhinos.

"We are pleased to hear this," the albino replied, though her tone and expression hardly gave away any emotion. "The evidence shall be processed. If it contains what we believe, the Tribunal will commence with the Architect presiding. Doctor," here the albino faced the Time Lord, "if this scroll contains what we believe, you are guilty, and the Tribunal will be to decide your sentence. Do you understand?"

"Yes. If the court permits, then I plead guilty. It'll save you the trouble," he added, and Kate saw several of his friends give various looks of despair and frustration. She had trouble maintaining a neutral expression herself; the alien seemed to be doing everything in his power to guarantee his own doom.

"Very well, it has been noted," the woman replied. "The Tribunal will then hear the statements of those who entered the ship, and the Doctor's explanation for his actions."

"Will the Tribunal not be providing legal counsel?" She inquired, feeling rather alarmed at the prospect that it was no longer a question of innocence or guilt, but merely of how guilty.

"The Tribunal is a neutral body," the albino turned surprised eyes on her. "We do not have your concepts of prosecution and defense. The Architect will hear an explanation from the Doctor. If he would prefer to have someone speak for him, however, he is welcome to do so."

"I- I see." She shared another look with Colonel Mace and gathered her resolve. "In that case, I would ask that the Tribunal consider meeting on Earth, as that would allow the Doctor that option more easily."

"Such a request is permissible," the albino informed them. "Very well. Tomorrow the Architect shall formally hear the Doctor's plea, and at this time it must be decided if he will have someone speak for him and who." A Judoon stepped forward toward the Time Lord, and Kate realized quickly that they were intending to incarcerate the alien on their ship. Not if she could help it.

"We would also like to offer our services in holding the Doctor until the Tribunal is over. We have the necessary facilities and it would allow his friends and family a chance to see him." It was the least she could do for them, after all. The whole group stood just in her peripheral vision, tense and silent. "We can restrict him to one visitor at a time if security is your worry."

The albino woman was silent for some time. "That is acceptable." Was the final response, and with no further comment, she and her two guards turned and ascended the ramp that led into a sleek, black spaceship. She nodded to the lieutenant and the corporal, who escorted the Doctor back into the base, and then she and Colonel Mace approached the others.

"Thank you," River said immediately before she could get a word in. "You've made the best of this situation."

"The Doctor has long been a great help to UNIT, Professor Song," the Colonel replied. "We are more than ready to return the favor."

"But what can we do?" Rory spoke up. "I mean, he's said he's guilty."

"Not like he could have said otherwise. Even without the scroll, he's said as much to all of us at some point," Jack shrugged.

"From my understanding, what the Tribunal is here to decide is what punishment befits the crime," Kate told them, but Donna scoffed.

"I think he's had punishment enough! What right do they have butting in, anyway?"

"It's their job, Donna," Martha stated sadly. "And the Doctor's always said he can't be above the law."

"But they've got to realize he had to do it," Mickey countered, looking to Kate as well as the rest of them. "I mean, he was in war. And sometimes you have to make tough choices, right?"

None of them said anything for some time, and she found her eyes drawn to Amy, who had been silent till now with a serious expression.

"He can't be allowed to speak for himself," the Scottish woman finally said determinedly. "Or we'll never see him again."

"I agree," River sighed, "But the Architect will not look favorably on one of us speaking for him. For one thing, half of us will be giving statements about the incident, and nearly the rest of us are family. And UNIT should try to remain neutral on this as well, so we can't use anyone from your staff."

"So you would recommend someone who is well spoken and educated, and can vouch for the Doctor, but who is not directly involved in this incident," Colonel Mace summarized succinctly. The archeologist nodded.

"I could try…" Sarah Jane mused aloud before looking up sharply. "Kate, if I could find and convince the person we need, could you have them here by tomorrow?"

"I'm more than willing to provide transportation," she agreed, not even caring that the journalist had not used her title. The beginnings of hope were stirring in her chest.

"Then I need to make some phone calls," the brunette said, striding to the base.

"Ok, great," Rory noted, "But even if we get someone, how do they know what to do?"

"Do you think they'll let us have records of previous cases, just to see what's expected?" Martha inquired.

"I don't see why not. We'll certainly ask," Kate answered, making a mental note of it.

"Ok, so we'll be doing quite a bit of reading up on the Shadow Proclamation," Jack said, than added, "And if we could get something on the Time War, that would be good."

"It'll be hard," River noted. "I might be able to persuade the TARDIS to open straight into the library—she's completely sealed otherwise—but he has her randomize the shelving just to make books on it impossible to find."

"Leave that to me," Jenny stated suddenly, "I know just the people." And she followed Sarah Jane into the base.

"Do you think he would talk about it?" Amy asked the curly-haired professor tentatively. "If we asked?" The other woman shrugged helplessly.

"Before we try that, I would like to speak to the Doctor beforehand," Kate spoke up. "I'd like to know his thoughts on how UNIT has proceeded so far." They all nodded their agreement, and so without further delay she turned and made for the base herself.

"Make sure he's eaten something today!" Donna called after her, and she glanced back to see several of them smiling at the typical remark.

Kate made her way swiftly through the corridors to the very center, and then down a flight of steps. They had converted a portable laboratory into a holding room for the Time Lord, and she waited patiently as the sergeant on guard unlocked the door.

The Doctor was in the chair they'd provided him, facing away from the door and his shoulders hunched. He clearly hadn't slept the night before; the bed was still perfectly made. When he heard her enter, he stood with a relatively pleasant smile in place, considering the circumstances.

"Ah, Kate. Forgive me, Director, but I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

"We haven't," she agreed, "but it's hardly necessary." Still she shook his hand. "I hope you've found the- accommodations suitable."

"Oh, they're fine, yes," he waved it off, like it hardly mattered, and Kate took a deep breath before getting down to business.

"Do you think—it seems rude of me to ask your advice, considering—but have I represented the Earth well to the Shadow Proclamation?" She did her best not to let any nervousness show, but her stiff shoulders relaxed under his warm smile.

"Earth couldn't ask for better."

"Thank you. You should know, Doctor, that though we will cooperate with them—whatever their decision—UNIT will do its best to provide any assistance you require." She felt so torn, for here was the man—the hero—of her father's tales, and it was her responsibility to lock him up all over again to await some terrible future.

"It's hardly necessary," he used her earlier phrase, and she had to admit in her head that Amy had been right; they couldn't leave this to the Doctor on his own. It seemed he was unwilling or unable to help himself. Perhaps he didn't think he deserved it.

"Then I suppose all I can offer you is…an apology," she said at last, and his eyes went wide in surprise. "Looking back, if I'd called the taskforce back when you said, we certainly wouldn't be in the situation we're in now. I was—"

"You were doing your job," he interrupted gently, "Certainly more than I was doing. I wanted the taskforce to return because it was dangerous, yes, but because I didn't want them to find what they did. Shameful, after everything." He hung his head. "I always promised I would answer for my actions once the ship was found. So I should thank you for making me live up to that promise."

She stubbornly shook her head, not wanting—never wanting—praise for this.

"You would have had to send someone in there anyway in order to dismantle the thing," he pointed out while tilting his head to meet her downcast eyes, as if reading her guilt-ridden thoughts.

"Be that as it may, I am sorry that my orders are what have led you to this, Doctor."

"Don't be." He took a breath, and then the corner of his mouth quirked up in an almost-smile. "It's what your father would have done."

She felt as though the air had been stolen from her lungs, so great was her shock. Still, Kate managed to reply to the now fondly smiling Time Lord. "How did you know?"

"How could I not? I see you dropped the Lethbridge," he noted, though she heard the question in it.

"I didn't want to rely on his legacy. I felt that I should attain my position on my own merit." He nodded, obviously impressed with her views.

"And you've done very well, too." She did her best to hide the proud smile. He grinned all the same, before his eyes got a slightly faraway look. "We didn't always get along, the Brigadier and me. Sometimes I was right and sometimes he was right, and sometimes neither of us was and we had to pretend. But no matter how angry he could make me at the time—infuriated, really—I always respected him. He always chose to do the right thing, even if it was hard, even if he didn't want to." Here, his eyes locked with hers and she knew that while they were talking about her father, they also were not. "It's one of the reasons I'm going through with this," he finished softly.

"I think I understand," she said finally, and he gave her a grateful look. She realized now, why he wouldn't run, why he'd plead guilty, when all the while they'd thought him mad. Because not to do so would be just as wrong as punishing him.

The Doctor was doing the right thing. So they had to make sure to do the right thing for him as well.

Kate turned to exit the room. "Notify the sergeant immediately if there's anything you need," she reminded, before setting out to get those court files. She was more determined than ever to help her father's oldest friend.

OoO

"It would be really helpful if you had the name of the book, Jess. Or the author. Or if you knew the genre," Aaron sighed and tried not to simply drop his head onto the desk in sheer frustration. Jessica Flenn had apparently been assigned some summer reading, but had lost the list of books she was allowed to choose from. So she had come to the desk seeking assistance.

'The one about that boy who does something', however, was not very descriptive, and so the library-page was having difficulty in doing much at all to help.

"Well, I mean, do you have a copy of the list?" She finally asked, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"We're in different grades, Jess, I don't get the same assignments as you. And this is a public library, so they don't have the list, either. Couldn't you borrow the list from one of your classmates?"

"Maybe. Allie might have it. Thanks, Aaron!" And the blonde girl turned and walked away. He sighed again, this time in relief, before a buzzing noise had him jumping to attention, Checking his mobile as surreptitiously as possible, he couldn't keep from grinning when he saw the name: Jenny.

Aaron decided it was high time he took a break, and ducked into the back room. "Hey, Jenny, what's—"

"Hi Aaron, I've got a lot to explain and it's really complicated, but I need a super-huge favor," the blonde greeted in a rush, and he merely blinked, used to her fast-paced speaking.

"Ok, what is it? Is it about that spaceship on the golf course?"

"Yes. Well, they've started taking apart the ship, but it's more about what was _in_ the ship than the ship itself, and well—my dad's been arrested."

"What?" Aaron yelped in shock. The Doctor was in prison? He tried to imagine it, and yet the idea was so strange he couldn't really picture anything. "Why?"

"Short story is that the Shadow Proclamation—this big, intergalactic judge-machine—is putting him on trial for the Time War. Long story is that the ship was a Dalek prison ship that they used to hold my dad during the Time War, where he apparently drew up the plans for ending it and time-locking Gallifrey, and Martha found the plans, the Shadow Proclamation found out, and now they're putting him on trial."

"Woah, that's- terrible," he finally said, hardly believing it. "Well, what can I do? What's the favor?" He wasn't sure what, if anything, he could do.

"None of us really know anything about how Shadow Proclamation trials work," she admitted, and now that he was focusing on it he could clearly hear how worried she was. "And dad already plead guilty. So they're giving us court records, and now if we want to have any hope of getting him off—or at least getting him the lightest sentence—we need to look for example cases so we know what to do. And I figured…this is sort of your thing."

He had to process all of that for a moment. "Wait. You want me to help you search the records to figure out a way to get him the lightest sentence?"

"Uh-huh." She sounded very tense.

"Are you still at the golf course?" He asked immediately. "Cause I can get there tomorrow—I get a week off of work in the summer."

"Yes, we're at the golf course! Oh, Aaron, thank you so much! It won't just be boring court cases either, probably. River's going to try and get the TARDIS to at least let us in the library—we figure the more facts we have on the Time War, the better."

"It's not a problem," he reassured, "I want to help." His head was still spinning from all this, but he knew above all else that he would do anything for Jenny, and the Doctor.

OoO

"Are you absolutely certain? I'm not sure I'm the right person for the job—"

"Of course you are," Sarah Jane hastened to contradict, not willing to give up now that she'd finally gotten a response from someone. "And anyway, Elizabeth Shaw is on Moonbase, Jo Grant can't be reached—probably in some jungle somewhere—I wouldn't ask this of you, or anyone, if I didn't have to, but please. The Doctor needs help, and he won't ask for it himself."

"Well that's hardly changed." Came the amused reply. "I'm just not sure we're all ready."

"If things go badly, you might not get another chance," she warned, not wanting to use scare-tactics, but realizing the urgency of this moment. She'd spent seemingly hours on this phone trying to contact _someone_, and she knew, she just knew if they agreed, they might be able to pull this off.

"You're right." It was said with a sigh. "No point in delaying any further. I can't promise you anything, but I will try my best to be there tomorrow."

"Thank you," she replied. "Thank you so much. You know, I ought to tell you you're something of a legend, to those of us who've heard about you from him."

"Really? You wouldn't think it if you'd been there. I have to say, I'll be interested to see what he's got to say when—well, I'd better get ready if I want to hear it at all. Good day."

"Good day," she said at last, and heard the click on the end of the line. Sarah Jane placed the phone down and did her best to look on the bright side. It seemed that help could very well be on the way. And if it did arrive, it might shock the Doctor out of his guilt-ridden, morally-obligated state long enough to save himself for once.

**Alright, so I think this chapter was a bit less on the angsty side, so that's a slight plus. Of course, you'll all have to wait and see who it is that Sarah Jane has called in to help save the day. I'd be most interested to hear any guesses, though. At any rate, thanks for your continued patience and feedback, thanks for reading, and please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm thrilled to hear all this feedback from you guys, and I was also interested to see many of your guesses. Well, that surprise will be revealed this chapter, so I hope you enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twelve**

Brian felt a lot of things, mostly confused and a tiny bit frightened. He barely knew the Doctor, had no idea what a Shadow Proclamation was or what it was doing, and was still trying to get over the fact that time-and-space travel was actually possible. All he knew for certain was that his son and daughter-in-law and their friends were worried about the strange alien man, and that made him worry, too.

Amy and Rory were conversing with the others outside, leaving him to merely watch. The topics ranged from just who Sarah Jane had gone off with Gregory in a jeep to pick up to possible escape plans for the Doctor should things take a turn for the worse at his trial. A woman he'd met briefly before with curly blonde hair stood to the side next to an old police box that she appeared to be talking quietly to.

"She's agreeing to open up to the library," the woman said louder, and Brian wondered who 'she' was. "Could someone get Jenny?"

The others all seemed too distracted and didn't hear, so he timidly stepped forward. "I could."

The woman, whose name he remembered was River, turned and offered him a warm smile. "Thank you, Brian."

As he went into the strange government base, he couldn't help but feel glad to be doing something. He'd begun to think of himself as a bit of a hanger-on by this point, sort of a nuisance to Rory and the others. But he couldn't just leave his son, now that he was only just beginning to understand what his life was really like, and especially not while he was going through an obviously terrible ordeal. Brian wasn't sure if he was a great father, but he liked to think he was a good one.

He eventually found the girl, Jenny, in the living-quarters of this temporary building. She was calmly removing things—clothing, shoes, accessories—from a bag that shouldn't have been able to fit them all, but he was more concerned with the miserable expression on her face.

"Er, excuse me?" He interrupted, and the blonde girl snapped her head up, features schooling themselves into a neutral expression. "A woman- Ms. Song, I think, wanted to see you. Something about a box of sorts and a library."

"Oh, yes," Jenny replied after a moment of confusion. "I'll be right there."

"I don't really understand," he admitted as she continued to unpack. "She said something about it only opening to the library?"

He'd left it open to answer, and she did. "It's like if your car decided to lock itself, and then it would only let you open the boot." He nodded to show he got it, even though he still wasn't sure what a library had to do with a police box. In fact, though he was sure she'd meant well, he was still entirely lost. "Well, never mind," she sighed.

Not wanting to seem completely incompetent, he tried a different approach. "Rory says that box is like your home."

"She is," the girl answered, "the TARDIS, I mean. That's what she's called. The first real home I've ever had. I suppose this'll have to do for now." She gestured around the little room that contained two sets of bunk beds. Amy had already been installed here as he and Rory were sharing a room now with Jack and Mickey as well. The other beds in this room had been claimed by Sarah Jane, Martha, and Donna, with River and Jenny deciding to share. The two had stated that they didn't need as much sleep.

"Well, it's a good thing you got your things together before your, er, box locked," he noted, trying to try for something positive. She smiled, but it was not a happy one.

"Yeah, it is. It's funny, now, I just did it to make him happy—but he was having us _pack_." She took a shaky breath and sniffed as though trying to stave off tears, and Brian felt very uncomfortable and unequipped to deal with this. "He knew what was going to happen the minute we landed, and he made sure we were all ready. And he didn't even take anything for himself! Only reason he's got a change of clothes is cause River packed them—we're not Daleks, we're not going to leave him to rot in some ship. And we never had to come here, but we _did_, and he _knew_, and he had us pack because he's _always_ like this."

The blonde dropped onto her bed and hid her face in her hands, but it wasn't until her little shoulders shook that Brian could tell for certain she was crying. He moved without thinking, coming to sit at her side and putting an arm around those trembling shoulders, which stiffened under his touch for a moment before she truly leaned into him.

This poor, broken girl, distraught over the fate of this strange alien—her father. It truly clicked in Brian's mind now; yes, he had heard the girl's desperate cries as the Doctor had been taken away by Director Stewart, but now that he was here with Jenny, failing miserably to console her as her father sat alone downstairs in a locked room, he could really see it. They'd obviously been close, as he remembered how they'd stuck together at the blood drive this past spring practically the whole time he'd been with them. But it was now, only as tragedy struck, that he could bring his relatively close-minded human brain to believe it.

"He thinks it's over, Brian," she mumbled into his shoulder. "There's always a way out, but he really thinks this is it, I know he does."

"Well, it- it's not over just yet, is it? I mean, this Shadow Proclamation hasn't even started. And Sarah Jane seems to think we might have a chance with whoever it is she's bringing in," he assured, trying to sound more confident than he felt. Brian was a man of few words, and yet here he was trying to comfort this girl he hardly knew! But it was strange, he felt almost compelled to, like it was his responsibility.

Jenny wiped at her eyes and sat up. "You're right," she said a bit thickly, clearing her throat before adding, "and we ought to get started on those books for Aaron. Anything to help, right?" She turned her big blue eyes on him and he nodded, receiving a genuine smile in return. "Thanks, Brian."

"There's no need," he replied, standing up with her. With new purpose, the smaller girl led the way out of the base. On the way, Brian caught sight of Martha Smith-Jones heading downstairs, and wondered just what the female doctor was up to. But his primary concern at the moment was Jenny.

River Song and the others had apparently gone off somewhere in the time it'd taken him to bring the blonde girl back, for only the box stood on the lawn. That and the two spaceships, of course, one Dalek and one Shadow Proclamation. The UNIT people were hard at work dismantling the first and weird two-legged rhinos acted as sentries in front of the second.

He took his eyes off the bizarre sight long enough to notice Jenny was making straight for the police box. "Jenny, shouldn't we wait for—"

"Mum's inside," the girl interrupted confidently, then pushed the door in. She put one foot inside, then looked over her shoulder at him, considering. "Coming?"

He hesitated a moment before nodding once again, and she rewarded him with another smile before entering the box. Brian followed after, wondering how he, Jenny, and her mother were going to all fit inside, when—

"My word," Brian breathed, looking around the grand, spacious room. It was truly a library on a huge scale, with two, perhaps three levels. Shelves lined the high walls or stood in rows in the middle of the floor creating aisles, and rolling ladders stretched up higher than he thought he would ever be comfortable going.

And it wasn't just River Song waiting for them in here, it was most everyone, including Rory and his wife.

"Jenny! Want to help me with this row?" Captain Harkness called out with a friendly grin, clearly as worried as everyone else about the girl.

"Sure, Jack," she responded before hurrying over to the American.

"You alright, dad?" His son asked, taking in his stunned expression.

"Yes, yes, I- it's just unbelievable," he replied dazedly.

"Here, Brian, take my chair," Amy offered, coming over to him and leading him to it by the arm. He sank into the comfy cushions rather easily, and after a moment began sorting through books with the two Ponds—as everyone else seemed to call them, anyway.

River passed by shortly after and said quietly, "Thank you for talking to her."

"Oh, it was hardly anything," he protested, not sure why he had been the one to do it out of anyone. "I doubt I helped much at all."

"You'd be surprised," was all the rather mysterious woman said back before turning and walking away to Donna Noble. He looked back at Jenny to see her laughing as Jack pushed the ladder she was on, only for Mickey Smith to send it rolling right back with his own mischievous grin.. He glanced at Amy and Rory to see them smiling fondly at the blonde girl, too. It was strange; he hardly knew most of these people, and yet something warm was blooming in his chest.

It made him want to work all the harder, to preserve that warm feeling and the cheerfulness that surrounded it.

OoO

Martha closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as she stood outside the heavy metal door, not caring if the sergeant was looking at her oddly for it. She knew she ought to be helping the others instead of wasting time like this, but she couldn't bring herself to concentrate—not to mention eat, sleep, think—until she did this.

So she at last nodded to the soldier, who unlocked the door, and Martha Jones stepped into the Doctor's prison cell for the second time in her life, the second time in under a week.

The room's sole occupant was facing away, in a chair humming a vaguely familiar tune, though she couldn't quite catch it, and he stopped before she really tried listening. "Oh, Martha," he offered a smile as he glanced over his shoulder at her, making her insides squirm wretchedly as he stood. "What can I do for you?"

"What can you do for _me_?" She repeated hoarsely, incredulous. She shook her head, saying, "I just- I don't know, I wanted to talk, I guess."

"Well, alright," he said, his brows knitting together for a moment as he studied her. Then he grabbed the chair and pulled it over to face the bed, which he sat on. "Have a seat," he gestured to the now-vacant chair, and Martha did so. Somehow he managed to catch her eye, even though she'd dropped her gaze to the floor. "What did you want to talk about, Martha?" He prompted softly.

"Could you stop?" She burst out suddenly, and saw a look of surprise flash across his face for a moment. "You don't have to be nice to me- you don't have to even _talk_ to me- I just- I just wanted to say—"

"Oh, Martha," he sighed, something close to pity being his expression now, "You don't think I blame you for this?"

"Shouldn't you?" She shot back, alarmed to discover that her voice was already wavering. "I found the scroll, I took it, and now you're here—"

"No, no, no, don't you see?" He hurried to soothe. "It wouldn't matter what planet that ship crashed on, someone would have found it, Martha. And that was the point, you know. It had to be found. It's got nothing to do with you."

"_I_ think it does," she argued stubbornly, biting her lip a moment and turning away for shame. "It's like you said—it had to be me, right?" She laughed bitterly, but it quickly turned into something that sounded like crying. "Martha Jones, the soldier, the one who never makes you happy, not like Amy or Donna or Sarah Jane or Rose—" But she cut off with a sharp gasp as a pair of strong arms took hold of her and pulled her to him, so that she was curled up in the Doctor's arms on the bed.

"Oh, Martha," he said again, this time much more distressed. "You don't really think that, do you?" Perhaps not all the time, no. But those were the secret, dark doubts that lived deep in Martha Jones' heart, and so she nodded. His arms tightened around her as if that could make her take it back. "Martha, that's not how it is at all. And I never meant that when I said—" he broke off for a moment, simply choosing to rub circles on her back.

Her head was tucked under his chin and so she could practically feel his two hearts thumping away in his chest. And that's also why she could feel and hear the low vibrations as he hummed softly.

And she recognized it. 'Hush, Little Baby'.

Martha pulled back to stare at him with wide eyes, and he stopped. "The Warden," she said after a moment, trying not to notice the way he winced, "she said you used to sing that to the children, the voices on the ship." He nodded after a brief hesitation, and so she asked, "Why?"

"It's what I always did," he answered, looking confused. "You've got Mandy and Michelle, Martha, you should know—"

"No, not that," she interrupted. "I mean, why create the voices at all? She said you didn't want to escape," she pressed when he didn't immediately respond.

"No, I didn't," he agreed. "You have to understand, Martha, I'd finally worked out a solution to end the horrors of that- that Hell…but could I do it?" He looked her right in the eye and she could see in them the man he must have been, sitting alone in that cell with only the meager candlelight to illuminate his work, his terrible idea. How unspeakably atrocious must the Last Great Time War have been in order for that to become a solution at all? Martha thought back to when she'd been holding a piece of the Osterhagen Key in her hand and shuddered.

"As long as you stayed you didn't have to do it," she said for him and he nodded. "But, wasn't it just as awful? Your wife…how did she…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the question, but he knew what she was asking.

"It's almost impossible to convert a Time Lord," he informed her, his voice level enough. Yet his voice grew soft as he continued, "But the Daleks were willing to go through the effort once they realized who she was—who she was to me." He swallowed once, and added, "The voices weren't originally there to keep me in. I was trying to remind her of my—of _our_ children…but it was hopeless."

"Doctor," she said gently, and cupped his cheek with one hand, wanting, needing to bring him back to the present. His eyes fell on her at last. "I'm so sorry." He nodded once just slightly. "But what can we do for you, now? I know we can't be- I mean, we'll never replace them- but we all care about you so much. We don't want you to…"

He managed a small smile and brought his own hand up to his face, to rest over hers. "An old man who's done what I've done hardly deserves it, but be there for me?"

"Of course," she assured. It wasn't even up for debate. His smile stretched a little wider, and he brought her hand down from his cheek to hold between both of his.

"I may have said it had to be you, Martha," he stated, "but I meant I was _glad_. Perhaps you're different from some of the others, just as they're all different—but it's only by your _strength_, Martha. You're so strong, and you can handle this. Because you never needed me."

She scoffed softly at that, "That's not true, Mister. I still need you."

His smile turned a little wry as he replied, "Then maybe we've both been a little wrong about each other. Because," he leaned forward and cupped her face with both his hands, placing a tender kiss to her forehead. "You've always made me happy, Martha Jones."

They smiled warmly at each other for a time, and then Martha asked, "What will you do tomorrow? What will you say to them?"

He sighed. "I- I don't know. I always thought, when the time came, I'd just…but River, Jenny, you all…I've got a lot of thinking to do."

She rose to her feet slowly. "I'll let you do that, then." After all, if he might come to a better decision than he'd been working with recently, she didn't want to hold that up. And she felt much more ready to do her part to help the others, now that this crushing weight of guilt had been lifted off her shoulders. She paused by the door. "Don't forget to eat, and get some sleep before tomorrow."

"Yes, Dr. Jones," he returned, and she grinned back at him before turning to the door. "By the way—tell Gregory he can keep the Jelly Babies."

OoO

The Doctor still hadn't made his mind up. Yes, it was rather alarming, wasn't it? The Tribunal, the trial that might decide the rest of his existence—or possibly, decide his existence at all—was about to begin, and he had no idea what he was going to say one way or the other.

They wanted an explanation for his actions. How could he explain what he'd done, let alone in a way that cast him in some sort of positive light? Unwillingly, he was reminded of the heavily edited version of the Time War the Wilkins Institute had attempted to give to a group of students. Words like _warrior_, _barbaric tactic_, and _autogenocide_. In the Gamma Forests, the word _doctor_ stood for _mighty warrior_. And it was all true.

Yet he knew what his friends and family would want from him. They were hoping for some kind of magic solution, a way out of this. But despite all the things he'd done, all the planets and people he'd saved, how could he argue that he'd saved Gallifrey? That he'd been right to end the Time War how he did? No matter how much happiness they'd all brought him, none of them had ever been able to convince him he wasn't guilty.

And did he really deserve to get off scot-free with his new family, while the old one—his first one—had fallen and been left to die? Could he simply forget that, too?

The Doctor refocused as he nearly crashed into the back of 2nd Lieutenant Jenkins, who had stopped in front of the Shadow Proclamation's spaceship. The soldier had come in with his sergeant friend this morning to get him for the Tribunal, and marched him to this point. Now the ship was opening, the ramp was descending, and two Judoon walked down to meet them. They fell in on either side of him, like a living box that felt far too small for comfort, and now they continued up into the ship itself.

The place was clean, blank, and sterile, much like he would have expected anyway, and they turned down a corridor before halting again before a door. One of the Judoon stepped forward and turned a key in the lock, and the door slid open. The Doctor walked in, still between the two UNIT guards.

The room was big enough, with a raised dais and chair—presumably for him—front and center, facing a higher table where the Architect would sit behind. Rows of benches were behind the dais, for the people who had come to see the trial. It seemed almost everyone was there, from Kate Stewart to Brian Williams for some reason. Francine must have collected the little Smith-Jones girls, for the children were nowhere in sight.

Jenny, River, Amy, Rory, and Brian were all on the first bench, talking quietly together, about what he wasn't sure. Gregory had hinted that his friends were up to something, and several out of the whole group looked a bit tired as if they'd pulled an all-nighter on his behalf. It made him feel all the worse for not knowing what he could possibly do to make this trial result in their favor.

He felt a bit shocked and undeniably grateful as old Wilfred Mott turned in his spot next to Donna on a bench to give him a friendly smile, and he felt his lips twitch up in response. But these warm feeling were a bit doused as he quickly noticed that out of the whole group, Sarah Jane was missing. Perhaps Luke was home or there was something going on that the investigative journalist had to report on. But he'd hoped his Sarah…

Once again, he gave a start as Gregory moved forward and led him to the chair. He took his spot and waited, both hoping and dreading that they would begin soon. At last, the Architect emerged from a door at the front of the room, one of her albino attendants trailing behind her.

"Oh, not _her_," he heard Donna mutter softly. "That's the one that got all in a huff cause he wouldn't let her bring her rhino-boys to Earth. How's this trial supposed to be fair?" The elegant woman either did not hear or took no notice of the comments and took her place, the assistant sat beside her with writing instruments in order to act as some sort of scribe.

"The Tribunal shall commence," the Architect pronounced as her scribe began writing. The other-worldly woman then leveled her gaze on him. "Doctor, you have been accused of the destruction of the planet Gallifrey in the constellation Kasterborous, and also of the near-extinction of that planet's inhabitants. You have pleaded guilty. Now we will hear your explanation." She paused a moment, then asked, "Will you be the one to speak, or do you have someone to speak for you?"

This was it, and for once his brilliant brain that couldn't seem to ever stop thinking and rolling words about and talking couldn't seem to come up with anything. But he'd simply have to. He opened his mouth to reply when—

"Yes, he does," a voice, clear, confident, and so unbelievably familiar replied, and the Doctor turned back in his chair to look. Because it _couldn't be_—but in the doorway he stood: Ian Chesterton, the very same, as if not even a day had gone by since he'd last seen him. Barbara Wright—Barbara Wright-Chesterton, he tried to remind himself—was just behind him, as unchanged as her husband. And just beyond them he saw his Sarah Jane, looking relieved and quite pleased with herself.

"The Tribunal recognizes?" The Architect left it a question.

"Ian Chesterton, professor at Cambridge," the man replied dutifully, before his eyes fell on him. A friendly, yet almost teasing smile came to the teacher's face, and he barely registered that Barbara almost seemed to be holding in a laugh. "Hello, Doctor. Surprised to see us?"

**Are you guys surprised?...yes, I realize the cliffy is not fun. But, best to stop here. You'll be getting a lot more on Ian and Barbara in the next chapters, though, so no worries! I'm excited to hear what you all think, so thanks for reading, and please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ok, so very terribly sorry for the super-long wait. Just trying to play catch-up with some of my other stories—I finally finished one!—and preparing for college. Didn't intend to leave this hanging for so long, though, so my apologies. Hopefully this update will make up for it. I'm so happy to see you're all excited about the inclusion of Ian and Barbara, which I was a little nervous about considering they are super Classic Who, but I promise to do my best to get their characters across even to those who have not watched their episodes. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Aaron!"

Molly registered her boyfriend's surprised yelp, but couldn't blame the teenager for taking off before the car stopped seeing as she was right on his heels. Poor Ron was left to finish parking and turning off the engine before scrambling down the sloping green of the former golf course. The place looked much different now; while the original spaceship looked to be in the process of being taken apart, a whole new one had landed. And of course, in the middle of it all, was the blue police box.

That sight did not make her happy however, seeing as the ginger library page had informed her and Ron about what peril their wayward Time Lord friend was currently in. Why was it that they only ever heard about the Doctor when something bad was happening? Molly wondered if that was normal for all of his friends, or just them.

Aaron had skidded to a halt at about the midpoint between the phone box, the UNIT base, and the new spaceship, clearly unsure of where to go first. Molly was equally clueless and so they waited for Ron to catch up moments later before the teen simply strode for the unknown spacecraft that seemed to at least have sentries. She guessed that they were some type of guard anyway, as they were armed and stood by the entrance. It just also happened that they were rhino people. And she'd thought the ones that looked like potatoes were bizarre!

"Hi," Aaron started a little nervously, and when all one of the rhinos did was glance down at him, he gulped. "Um, you wouldn't happen to know a Jenny Smith, would you?"

"Jenny Smith is not a plaintiff, a witness, or an accused at this time."

"Look, we're here about the Doctor," Ron tried a new approach, and Molly thought it was rather smart; she had a feeling that just about everyone knew the Doctor.

It worked, as the rhino nodded. "The Doctor is currently on trial."

"What?" Molly gasped. But they were here to help! How would they have any time to come up with some sort of defense now?

"It's already started?" Aaron echoed her dismay. "We've got to get in there!" But when he moved to go past the two guards, they suddenly stepped together, strange weapons out and very angry.

"The time for admittance has closed. There will be no trespassing."

"But—"

"It is an offense punishable by death." And it certainly looked like they were going to carry out that punishment, as they held their weapons in a ready position. Molly and Ron each clamped a hand down on Aaron's shoulders and pulled the shocked boy back with them a few steps, afraid of how the guards would react if they simply fled.

"Please, there's no need for this," a small, yet steady voice broke in, and Molly turned to see an old woman approaching from the base. Her short hair was completely white and her face had countless lines. A cane supported her and made a little thump that was muffled by the ground. "They are unaware of your laws, and must be excused. I will not stand to see this step forward in galactic cooperation ruined by hasty action!"

Grudgingly, the rhinos stood down, and Molly, Ron, and Aaron quickly made their way further back towards the woman. "Thank you," Molly said earnestly.

"You're welcome, my dear," the woman replied, then asked, "I do hope you have a good reason for nearly getting yourselves killed by a pair of Judoon?"

"That's what those things are called?" Aaron inquired, likely filing that bit of information away, and Molly wondered when the research paper on space-rhinos would commence.

"We came for the Doctor's trial," Ron supplied the answer, then his expression turned glum, "but it's already started."

"How is that even fair? We wanted to help build up some kind of defense, but they barely gave him a day!" Molly bit out angrily. The woman, however, gave a wry smile.

"Well from their point of view he's had a number of centuries to think it over, wouldn't you agree?" She didn't seem to expect a response and none of them could think of one. Instead, she turned and began her walk back to the base. "I wouldn't worry too much about time; it's got its funny way, after all."

"Yeah, but not when the Doctor hasn't got his time machine," Aaron pointed out.

That seemed to amuse their acquaintance, for she gave a little laugh. "Is that what you think? You don't know him—or time—well enough, then. But you needn't fuss, young man," she continued right over the ginger boy's indignant huff, "the official speaker for the defense has recently arrived. The Shadow Proclamation will likely give him a day or two to confer with his client before reconvening."

"_What_?" All three of them asked, both surprised and elated.

"Who's speaking for the Doctor?" Ron demanded.

"Will they really give him more time?" Molly had to check, hardly wanting to believe the positive news.

"How do you know so much about all this?" Was Aaron's question, as he surveyed the elderly woman doubtfully.

"I've offered my services to UNIT to oversee the proceedings between the Shadow Proclamation and Earth—particularly if the trial goes badly."

"You mean if the Doctor is punished in some way?" Molly asked hesitantly, both not wanting to consider the possibility and noticing the way the woman's face had become even more tired and drawn. A solemn nod was her only reply.

"But, er, shouldn't you be at the trial, then?" Ron questioned.

"Oh no, that'd be too much for me." All three of them were rather inclined to believe that; the short walk to the UNIT base had left the woman short of breath and with sweat on her brow. Still, she leveled them with a look as she asked, "Now, as I've told you there's still time, shouldn't you three be doing something about building that defense you were talking about, hm?"

They jumped at the sudden realization, but Molly couldn't help glancing about and feeling a little lost. She'd assumed Jenny would be on hand to help them get started, but it only made sense that the girl would be at her father's trial.

"Er, she said something about the TARDIS," Aaron offered, and they turned to look at the wooden box.

"Do you know if it's open—ma'am?" Ron had started to ask as he looked back at the woman, but Molly and Aaron turned as well only to find her gone. "Well that was a bit…odd," her boyfriend remarked, and Molly shrugged.

"Perhaps she had something to do; she is supposed to be managing relations between us and the aliens, after all."

"Or she could be having a lie-down," Aaron commented as he set off for the Time Lord's spaceship.

"Don't be rude," Molly scolded. "She had more than enough energy to save our lives, didn't she?" The library page gave a sheepish look, which she accepted as she followed after.

"What exactly are we supposed to do once we go inside the TARDIS?" Ron asked. "I mean, I'm not sure how a bunch of weird knobs and buttons are going to help us win a case—woah." The sandy-haired man had stopped again, this time stunned by the box's interior they were met with. Instead of the otherworldly front room, they'd stepped into an impossibly huge, grand library with aisles of books stretching further than she could see. Molly moved forward as if in a trance, her head slowly swiveling from side to side to try and take in as much as possible.

"Well, we've got a lot to do," Aaron finally stated, and she and Ron nodded mutely in agreement.

OoO

It was almost comical, really, the look on his face, and the only thing keeping her from outright laughing was the fact that this was a trial. And yet, she shouldn't have been surprised; he'd always managed to make her laugh at the strangest times, probably almost as much as the times he'd made her want to shout in outrage at him.

Funny how time could make you remember the good times just that much better.

Barbara managed to school her features as Ian walked forward, and she and Sarah Jane slid onto a bench in the back. The other spectators of the trial seemed torn looking between the two new arrivals.

"I apologize for the delay," her husband began in a cordial manner before his tone hardened, "but I hardly feel that the accused has been given enough time to prepare the explanation that you seek. Certainly not one fit for the court of the Shadow Proclamation." Ian had always had such a way of mixing flattery with argument, and it seemed to work once again.

"I am willing to consider this," the rather strange looking judge began. There was a slight pause before she nodded decisively. "Very well. You will be given two days to prepare this explanation and any evidence you may have. The court is adjourned." She and the court scribe, another albino woman, exited through one door as everyone else stood up.

A blonde girl started forward toward the Doctor, but he was already surrounded by two of the Shadow Proclamation's guards and two UNIT soldiers. An older, curly-haired woman placed a hand on the young girl's shoulder to stop her as the man was marched out.

Barbara flashed a brief smile as he passed, not disappointed when he didn't return it. His gaze on her was confused, as though he was having trouble believing she was even there at all, and he half-turned to look back at her and Ian once before forced to exit the room.

She moved to join Ian, who was currently being mobbed by what seemed to be an incredibly diverse group of the Doctor's friends.

"You're really Ian Chesterton?" A dark-skinned woman checked, though her eyes were widened in near awe.

"How do you two know the Doctor, then?" Asked an older man with white hair and beard.

"You sure you can do this?" A taller man with an American accent inquired seriously.

As professors, they were both of course accustomed to quieting groups of people, and so at last Ian answered, "Yes, I am who I said, Barbara and I travelled with the Doctor some time ago, and while I am not a lawyer by profession I've certainly had the time to read up on the practice."

A couple of the people looked as if they wanted to continue the almost press conference, and so Barbara held up a hand to still them. "Now really, Sarah Jane asked us here to help and if we all stand around talking we're never going to succeed. What Ian and I need to do right now is speak with the Doctor."

"You're quite right," agreed a woman with short blonde hair. She stepped forward and held out a hand to each of them in turn. "Director Stewart of UNIT; I'll escort you to the Doctor's room." They followed her out, and though she felt badly for leaving all those people who clearly only had good intentions for the Doctor, Barbara also knew that this was the best course of action.

The Time Lord in question was sitting in a chair when they were shown in, seemingly dazed. He looked up at them in wonder once again, saying, "So it is you. I'd thought maybe I'd taken temporary leave of my senses."

"Is it really that surprising?" She asked as they approached. "As much as you visit Earth, we were bound to see each other again."

"Yes, but this is the 2000s, Barbara!" He argued, and then waved a hand at the two of them. "And look at you—not a gray hair, not an age line. The same as 1965. That shouldn't have happened."

"But you must have known," Ian interjected. "You knew we were professors, that we'd gotten married."

"All things that I'd heard about. I never actually went to check for myself. I was too—well, it's not like we parted on the best of terms," the alien finished with a chagrined expression. He seemed agitated now, for he rose from the chair and paced away a bit, then turned back to them. "And now this has happened, and I can't even say I told you so, since it's because of my own rubbish piloting you felt the need to hop in a Dalek time machine in the first place."

"Well, we're not angry," she pointed out with a half laugh. "There's no blame to be given. Ian and I are quite happy with our lives as they are right now."

"But—"

"What's this about anyway?" Ian interrupted with a slightly teasing grin. "You used to put everything and everyone else to fault but yourself, and now you're apologizing before we've even asked for one. You've changed, Doctor."

"I've grown older and wiser," he countered, and neither of them could hold in a laugh at that; the young man before them was vastly different in appearance to the man he'd been when they'd met him. He pouted in response, only adding to their amusement. "You two ought to appreciate that sentiment more than most, it seems." When he huffed and tugged at his jacket, she had to smile. This was the Doctor.

"Of course we understand," she attempted to console, walking over and placing a hand on his arm. "We can't help finding this a little funny, though. And it's just nice to see you again."

"Yes, well—" a pleased little smile was tugging at his lips, too, before his expression turned to one of bewilderment as he asked, "Hang on, how come you two aren't even a little surprised by me? I know I didn't tell you about regeneration."

"We've had a few years to look you up," Ian reminded. "Not to mention that visit two of your friends paid to us last summer."

"Last summer?" He repeated in confusion. Then his face seemed to light up in recognition. "Oh, Amy and Rory. Right, they were carrying out my- ah, my will." The Doctor appeared to register their pointed looks at last, as he scratched a bit nervously at his cheek. "Right, well I'm not dead—or memory-less, for that matter—though I suppose you've gathered that by now."

"So kind of you to let us know," Ian remarked dryly, causing the Time Lord to flush a little pink in embarrassment.

Barbara decided to take pity on him. "The gifts, though, were very nice. I didn't know you'd kept that gem from the Aztecs, but it's beautiful."

"Yes, well, it seemed rude to simply discard it at the time," he hedged, then looked a little hesitantly at Ian. "Yours alright, Chesterton?"

"Yes. Never thought you would go to the trouble of getting an authentic Coal Hill School tie, but thank you."

"Well I did ruin the last one," he shrugged, causing Ian to shake his head in remembrance. "Oh that was ages ago," the alien nearly sighed. "I never dreamed—but it is wonderful to see you both again."

"And you as well, Doctor," Ian agreed, before his smile slowly faded. "But perhaps we should get to the matter at hand."

To their surprise, the other man chuckled, though he hardly seemed amused. "Really? You were being serious about that?"

"Well why not?" Ian replied incredulously. "You've defended me in court before. Isn't it about time I returned the favor?"

The Doctor clearly remembered that particular misadventure while on their quest for the Keys of Marinus, for he scoffed and said, "Ah, but you were innocent. Therein lies the difference." A miserable expression overtook his features. "I'm the furthest thing from innocent."

"That's not what we're here to decide, you've already plead guilty," her husband remarked a bit sharply. Barbara went for a different approach.

"Doctor, please. The Shadow Proclamation is asking for an explanation. Well there's no reason not to give them a good one. We'll tell the truth," she promised, as he'd look about to object, "but you've got to help us do that. You've got to tell us about the Time War."

He'd gone very pale with those words, and when he spoke his voice was low and quiet. "There's a reason I don't talk about the Time War, Barbara. No one should have to know about that."

"If you can handle it, then so can we," she disputed in her usual determined way.

"We know it won't be easy, Doctor," Ian acknowledged. "But you're going to have to tell us anyway. Better to get it over with and let us use that information for some good."

He looked very much like he wanted to challenge that statement, but he must have realized how futile his efforts would be. They were right; the Tribunal would not be satisfied unless they heard a proper explanation. Barbara only hoped that it might make it easier on him to be able to relate it to them first.

The Doctor's shoulders slumped, and his downcast eyes glanced at them. "Ok. Um, you should sit down—the bed should work, only one chair in here." When they'd done as he'd asked, he dragged the chair over to face them, and sat heavily. "Ok…" He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and so they remained silent, knowing one false move could easily send him into one of his secluded, brooding moods.

"It's easiest to begin with the Daleks, although I'm not sure it's fair to say they started it. I'm not making a case _for_ them, mind, but perhaps in this instance the Time Lords ought to have followed their rule of non-interference. It's not hard to make the Daleks cross, and trying to wipe out their existence from the Universe certainly did it," a breathy laugh sort of wheezed out of him, partly in genuine amusement and partly in disbelief that he was actually talking about this. "None of us were surprised when the war started. Many people welcomed it—quite like you humans in 1914, only our Last War really was the last…"

OoO

Mickey couldn't keep the frown from his face as they all made their way from the Shadow Proclamation spaceship. The others were already intent on heading back to the TARDIS library, but he still felt puzzled.

Sure, working for UNIT had given him access to all sorts of files, both about the Doctor and the people he'd travelled with. But information about Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright was scarce, as they had had no encounters with the organization while travelling with the Time Lord.

They were about halfway to the police box when his curiosity finally got the better of him, and he caught Sarah Jane by the arm. She turned to him with questioning eyes, and so he got to the point. "I just have to ask—why them?"

The journalist understood what he meant perfectly. "A number of reasons, Mickey. They're both very well-educated. As I'm sure you're aware, they've had decades to devote themselves to all sorts of studies. Ian was being a bit modest when he said he'd just 'read up' on law. They're also not affiliated with UNIT or any other sort of organization."

"But that's not what made you ask them," he guessed, and she nodded.

"You're right. I asked because, well, it's hard for you all to understand," she began somewhat apologetically, and he did his best not to feel insulted, "but the Doctor is a very different man."

"I know that," he pointed out, a bit indignant. He'd met three separate incarnations of the man, which was more than many of their group could say.

Sarah Jane gave his arm a pat as if to placate him, "Of course you do! But I'm talking about him before the Time War. He was very different before then to what he is now."

"How do you mean?" If he'd been curious earlier, that was nothing compared to this.

"Well he's always stood up for humans or whatever inhabitants of a planet he comes across—but there was always a sort of distance. He was there and exploring and discovering, but he held himself apart, didn't really try to fit in or make himself a part of what was happening. You all laugh at him sometimes—and I do, too, I'll admit—but he really tries so hard these days to be like us, to make us like him. He wants so desperately to be accepted."

"Why not before the Time War?"

"He had his own people then," she answered simply. "A people, a planet, a home. Even if they weren't always the kindest to him, they were there. He may not have liked sitting around on Gallifrey, but he had a sense of belonging there, as opposed to Earth. You probably would have found him insufferable, most people did. He told me once that I was the first human he ever considered his best friend."

She was smiling warmly at the memory, but Mickey was in deep thought. He tried to reconcile this aloof image of the Time Lord with the friendly, bumbling alien who'd smile at you as soon as look at you. Sure, their Doctor wasn't all sunshine, but Mickey knew he cared deeply about them. He'd created a sort of family for himself out of them.

Mickey wondered, if the Time War hadn't happened, if the Doctor hadn't been left all alone, would he have come back that second time and mentioned to a pink and yellow girl that his spaceship travelled through time?

What was done was done, however, and so he shook his head and asked, "So what has this got to do with Ian and Barbara?"

"They knew him before the Time War, they know what he was like. They, possibly more than anyone, can show how much he's changed. That's why I asked them." They looked at each other for a moment before nodding, and as one decided to rejoin the others.

Everyone had returned to the TARDIS library, and it appeared they'd been joined by the old library trio. Aaron was chatting animatedly with Jenny, and pointing out a passage from one of the many books, while Molly and Ron were asking about Ian and Barbara.

"They travelled with him, too?" The brunette girl was asking.

"He's like a thousand years old," Donna replied. 'Believe me, there's been more than just us."

"Mickey," Martha walked up to him, "Kate's saying she's been advised to have us start thinking about what we're going to say in our statements to the Tribunal."

"Alright. Who's advising her? Ian?"

"I don't think so," His wife's nose scrunched up rather cutely in thought as she considered the question. "He's hardly had the time, plus he's got to be talking with the Doctor right now."

"Maybe it was that woman?" Ron Sherwood offered helpfully, and Mickey turned to him.

"What woman?"

"Er, said she was here to help with the whole trial thing. Short hair—"

"Oh, Barbara," he realized, then looked back to Martha. "Well, I guess we ought to get started on that, then."

"Probably," she agreed, and so they went to find somewhere quiet to sit and think. It would be a nice break, at least.

**Stopping there for the night. Don't worry, you'll hear more on the Time War in the coming chapters, both in preparation for and at the Tribunal.**

**A couple housekeeping items: yes, I'm going with the Sarah Jane Adventures cannon where Ian and Barbara apparently have not aged since they left the Doctor in "The Chase". I'm assuming it has to do with the Dalek spaceship/time machine they used, since not aging has never been a result from traveling in the TARDIS. **

**Also, no, Ian and Barbara are not surprised to see super-young-looking Eleventh Doctor. If you remember all the way back to my first story "It Can Come Back", Ian and Barbara were first on the list of beneficiaries for the Doctor's will. Thus, there would have been a scene (had I chosen to write it) where Amy and Rory went to see the two professors, and thus they also know each other sort of vaguely. River stayed in the TARDIS, so Ian and Barbara don't know her, though she likely knows of them.**

**The two gifts the Doctor referred to were what they received in his will. Barbara received an Aztec jewel, which was a gift the Doctor was originally given by his accidental fiancée in "The Aztecs". He chose to keep it, make of that what you will. In "The Web Planet" the Doctor used Ian's tie to test a pool to check if it is acidic. He was right, and the tie disintegrated. So I figured Ian should get a replacement, even if he doesn't work there anymore.**

**I also referenced the episode "The Keys of Marinus" in which there is a delightful subplot where Ian gets framed for murder and put on trial, and the Doctor acts as his offense attorney. I think it's kind of fun to have the situation reversed.**

**At any rate, I hope that these quasi-footnotes are helpful to those of you unfamiliar with Classic Who, and that I've sufficiently explained why I've chosen to bring these particular characters back. Thanks very much for reading, and please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Ok, so this is a pretty big chapter guys. I'm thrilled you all seem to be enjoying it so far, and without further ado I'll let you continue reading!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"The thing you have to understand, is that for all civilized we were, the war turned the Time Lords…brutish. It wasn't as if they were willing, of course," the Doctor acknowledged, and Ian could see how it pained the man to talk of his people that way. "The Daleks were by no means a normal adversary."

"What all did they do?" Barbara asked, and he could see his wife's line of thinking. Perhaps if they learned just how far the Daleks had gone, it would help them—and the Tribunal—understand how the Doctor had come to the conclusion that the total destruction of a planet was the better alternative.

"Well, the usual extermination campaign, but on a massive scale," their friend began. "They had other methods, too. There're few besides me and Steven Taylor who remember the Varga." At their questioning looks, he elaborated. "They were plants native to Skaro, but mutated by the wars there so that they had achieved mobility. This made them all the more deadly—one cut from a Varga plant would turn you homicidal before slowly converting you into one of them."

"A sort of biological warfare," Ian summarized, and the Doctor nodded.

"Yes, and very effective. By the end of the war the Varga had nearly overtaken all the other plant life. The red grasses and the trees with their silver leafs…gone." He swallowed once before adding, "And as for the Time Lords themselves, the Varga were one of the most dreaded ways to go. We could avoid it of course. It wasn't uncommon for a—" his voice wavered a moment, "friend or comrade to beg me to shoot them, so they could regenerate and be rid of the Varga infection."

"What an awful choice!" Barbara lamented. "Why, I'm not sure what's worse. It must have been a tremendous ordeal for you."

"Yes," Ian agreed, "I wonder if the Daleks did that on purpose to demoralize the Time Lords."

"It wouldn't surprise me," the Doctor gave a half-hearted shrug, "but they had other methods for that. You've seen or heard, perhaps, of people who work with the Daleks."

"Like the Robomen?" Barbara guessed.

"Well, yes, they used something like that, too, although it's incredibly hard to turn a Time Lord into a puppet of the Daleks. But they would never have been able to do even that without help." His expression, which until then had been tired and sad, turned dark and angry.

"You're not saying there were Time Lords who willingly cooperated with them!" Ian realized, horror creeping into his tone. "How could they?"

"Don't act so shocked, Chesterton!" The Doctor snapped, some of the familiar ire in his voice. "You may have left by that point, but I have seen countless humans willingly give themselves over to those monsters. Usually for their own personal gain! The Time Lords were never so deluded—we all knew that the Daleks did not share their victories. The ones that helped them had already been captured themselves, and knew their options were few. All they wanted was to live."

Ian was still smarting a bit from the Doctor's rebuke, so it was up to Barbara to ask softly, "And what did the Daleks have them do?"

Their friend had calmed from his defensive outburst, and stayed silent for a minute, slumped in his chair. "You spoke of the Robomen. Well, in order for the Daleks to achieve such control over their victims, they first must conquer the mind. With humans, they can accomplish that on their own, but my people were telepathic. So even if they had been captured or defeated in battle, they still needed to be overcome in their minds."

"And the Daleks had these other Time Lords do that to them," Barbara guessed, and the alien nodded miserably.

"If the physical fights were terrible, these were unimaginable. A forcible entry into a person's mind, their very _being_. It was an intrusion unspeakable until the Time War. But if a captured Time Lord refused to work with the Daleks, they would turn them over to the ones that had agreed, so that they could be melded into some type of slave." He seemed to enter a kind of lecture mode at this point, the professor in Ian picking up on it instantly. He couldn't blame the man, for what he was describing was more horrific than perhaps anything he'd ever heard.

"The Robomen are the lowest, crudest form, but there are more sophisticated versions of their puppets. The higher levels called for an even deeper penetration, and supposedly could often require two or more Time Lords. I never underwent such a process myself, but—" Suddenly the Doctor broke off with a shuddering gasp, his face turning a chalky white.

"Doctor?" Barbara called tentatively, for it looked as though the man was about to be sick. Instead, he released his breath with something like a sob, but Ian was unable to tell if indeed the Doctor was actually crying as he buried his face in his hands.

"What did they do?" Came the whispered words, harsh and yet shaking. "What did they _do_ to her? _Oh_—" He broke off with that last despairing sound, shoulders quaking in time with his ragged breaths, and Barbara crouched down in front of him, hands gently encircling his wrists.

"Doctor, please." She was clearly just as thrown as he, for the Doctor had never been one to so openly show his emotions. But again, this was no ordinary circumstance, and so it was only right that they try to help him through it. He could only wonder who this mysterious 'her' was.

"It's alright, Doctor," he tried softly. "It's all over now." The Time Lord slowly lifted his head, and Ian couldn't help feeling stunned that there truly was a wetness in his eyes, and the faintest traces of tear-tracks down his face. It made Ian want to swallow his words; yes, it was over, but it was far from alright.

Barbara glanced back at him, but he gave a tiny shake of his head. If he knew the Doctor at all, he was sure the other man wanted to compose himself on his own. Sure enough, their friend turned away in his chair and quickly wiped at his face before facing them once again.

"You've referenced physical fights, some type of battles," Ian chose to switch the topic, and the Time Lord nodded.

"It's not a war if there's no battles. As I've said, the Daleks came as far as Gallifrey itself, and we launched our own attacks against Skaro, as destroyed as it already was. The real tragedy was the planets that got caught in between. Countless innocents suffered as their worlds were turned into battlegrounds. The Autons, Arcadia, Messaline before it was recolonized by the humans and the Hath, and so many more. But there was only so much that could be done, so busy were we with keeping our own planet intact. The Citadel was falling apart by the end."

"Where were you stationed?"

He gave a bitter laugh at that. "I wasn't." At their bewildered looks, he continued, "Kembel, Spiridon, Exxilon, Aridius, Vulcan—I fought them all. I saw the Fall of Arcadia, I watched as the Cruciform was taken over by the Dalek Emperor, I tried and failed to save Davros at the Gates of Elysium." The words were pouring from him now, but Ian was stunned.

"All those?" He asked in a hushed voice.

"And more," was the despondent reply.

"They made you fight in all of those?" Barbara asked, clearly not wanting to believe it.

"Worse—I practically led them," he confessed. "Perhaps it was arrogance, perhaps it was necessity that drove me, but I felt I couldn't leave it to anyone else. Who would know better how to fight Daleks than me, right? Certainly not the non-interfering Time Lords, who mobilized over a million Battle TARDISes yet hardly knew how to use them." His rather sardonic tone, which Ian suspected was directed mostly inward, left his voice as he said, "By the time the horrors became too much, it was simply matter of fact that I be there. They- they took control of the Old Girl," he choked out, "and send me to head up this or that army. I didn't want to go."

His voice sounded so small, and Barbara moved to take his hands. "They should never have done that to you," she stated in a firm voice, but he freed one of his hands and gestured for her to retake her seat.

"Better the mad old Doctor than a Battle TARDIS fully equipped with six pilots," he deflected, attempting a half-smile. "And anyway, I still wanted to help. God, I wanted to be enough, enough to stop it all."

He sat back and Ian wondered if that was it. But then the Doctor spoke again. "It wasn't all TARDISes and flying saucers. There were times when you'd crash and find yourself face to face with the enemy."

"I'm surprised the Daleks didn't try that more often," Babara commented. "They've certainly got some advantages—built-in weapons, their casing."

"Well, every Time Lord was armed," he countered. "And we're not exactly defenseless without a weapon."

"How do you mean?" Ian asked, a slight suspicion in his voice.

"I'd prefer you didn't tell Kate—don't want her and UNIT feeling embarrassed—but it would not be impossible for me to break down that door," he admitted with a nod at the only entrance to his room, just the hint of a grin on his face, and Ian and Barbara gaped. That door was a good few inches thick, with reinforced hinges and multiple locks! "Time Lords are stronger than humans, though I wouldn't go so far as to call it super-strength. I don't like to use it because, well, I worry it might scare you lot."

"We've seen countless aliens and monsters and nearly died, and you think _that_ would be what scares us?" Barbara sounded in disbelief, and he scratched at his cheek.

"I never said it wasn't silly," he defended somewhat weakly, before giving a heavy sigh. "But my point was that, if we were truly desperate, we could engage the Daleks in a sort of hand-to-hand. I saw teams of Time Lords rip dozens of them to pieces in fear. I'm ashamed to say I didn't refrain from it myself." There was a haunted look in his eyes, and an unbidden image of the ugly, mutilated creature inside the metal killing machines rose to the front of Ian's mind. He tried not to grimace, but the Doctor saw it.

"You were fighting for your life," he reminded in an attempt to show the alien that he was not judging him, but it only served to make their friend frown even more.

"My life, hardly. That was just another thing about the war—the half-deaths. We'd come crawling back into the Citadel and regroup. And then came counting the casualties. There were very few during the war itself. Regeneration saw to that. I'd set out with an army of friends, old schoolmates, and even neighbors, but when the battle was over sometimes it was a sea of strangers looking back at me. Alive, yes, but not the same."

Ian tried to imagine it, but simply couldn't. How disorienting was it now to see this young man sitting before him, and having to remind himself that somewhere inside was the old friend he'd grown to respect and care for? To watch as people you know, no matter how closely, were exterminated mercilessly before your eyes, only to be replaced by someone else claiming to be those same people you'd lost, it had to have been traumatic.

"That must have been awful for you," Barbara echoed his thoughts.

"For me, perhaps," the Doctor acknowledged. "But for those who experienced it for themselves, their first minutes nothing but death and destruction and nightmares, _that_ was the real atrocity. Sometimes they couldn't take it. My friend, Leela, had stayed behind on Gallifrey because she fell in love." There was a wistful smile to his face, no doubt thinking on happier times with his former companion. "Her husband was with me when Kolox was destroyed and made the Kolox Nebula. When he regenerated…he went mad, couldn't remember me, her, anything. The Time Lords' solution," the disdain in his voice was clearly audible, "was to set him loose, like a rabid dog. He took out an entire Dalek fleet before they managed to kill him for good. I…lost track of what became of Leela. I couldn't face her, not after that," the guilt in his expression was almost overwhelming. "I lost track of most everyone, before the end. I didn't want to know."

Ian and Barbara exchanged a look, and he knew his wife was thinking along the same lines as him; how had the Doctor managed to survive? It was a miracle he was even here talking to them.

It was also evident that all of this was taking its toll on the alien. His eyes were nearly swimming in unshed tears that he kept trying in vain to swipe away, his face was pale, his voice hoarse, and he'd drawn in on himself almost completely. He wasn't sure whether to get it over with and ask for the Doctor's account of the end of the Time War, or allow the broken man some time to recover before undergoing that ordeal.

He was saved from making that decision as they all heard the locks being undone, and the door swung open. Framed in the doorway and holding a tray of food was a curly-haired woman Ian remembered seeing on the Shadow Proclamation ship, no doubt one of the Time Lord's many friends.

"River," the Doctor croaked, a great deal of relief and happiness conveyed in that one word. The so-named River was at his side in a matter of seconds, and placed the tray in his lap.

"It's mess hall food again, I'm afraid," she told him softly, before looking back at them and offering her hand. "Professor River Song."

"Pleasure to meet you." He stood and shook the offered hand, Barbara repeating his movements.

"I can't thank you both enough for coming," the professor said, "but I think there's been enough talk today. I'm sure you're both hungry as well." It wasn't until she mentioned it that he realized how empty his stomach felt. With a start, he glanced at his watch only to find that a number of hours had passed. Barbara looked equally as surprised, no doubt having been as spell-bound as he by the Doctor's miserable tale.

"Yes, I think we are," his wife was saying to the other woman, adding to the Doctor, "Get plenty of rest and food." They both could take a hint; their new acquaintance had obviously noted the Doctor's distressed state and was taking measures to fix it. They could hardly blame her. So he and Barbara made their way to the door.

"Doctor," Ian said just before he stepped out. The other man met his gaze curiously, though his eyes were weary. "We're doing this to help you with the Tribunal—but also to help _you_. Understand?"

The alien swallowed once and nodded. "Yes, I- thank you." Ian stepped out into the hall and allowed the waiting sergeant to take hold of the door handle. He was taken by surprise when the Doctor added softly, "And…I'm sorry I can't tell you—I never knew…what became of Susan."

The sergeant pulled the door shut with a resounding bang before either of them could reply.

OoO

"Aaron, I don't think that's a good idea," Rory cautioned, and the teenager whirled around with wide eyes and the classic caught-red-handed expression. He was holding a bottle with rather dubious contents, and looked about to tip them out.

"But it's got Skaro on the label, and I've read that's the Daleks' home planet," the library page protested, holding the bottle out for his examination. Sure enough, the little bottle was part of a set, labeled in a neat, unfamiliar script. He thought perhaps it was a subset to the larger bottles on the shelf above, which all professed to be different volumes of the _Encyclopedia Gallifreya_. This comparatively homemade bottle was labeled _The Skaro Degradations_.

"You think it's got something to do with the Time War?" He guessed, and the boy nodded. The contents of the bottle sloshed around a bit and he thought he heard faint screeches that sounded eerily close to a Dalek. "I don't think it's a good idea to just have a look."

"Why not?" The boy countered, clearly unimpressed with his lack of adventurous spirit. "Look, these are different from the _Encyclopedia_," he explained, pointing out the more official looking bottles. "They've got hand-written labels, for one thing. And all of them have specific titles. So what if they're more than books? They could be a journal on the Time War—his journal."

"Like his memories?" It seemed he was not the only one who had been keeping an eye on Aaron, for Martha stepped out from another aisle. "Seems a bit _Harry Potter_ to me," she quipped before taking on a more serious expression. "And also private."

"Oh," the ginger boy seemed to realize, hastily placing the bottle back. "But we do need more facts about the Time War."

"I'll ask River if she thinks we can look at them when she gets back," Rory compromised. His daughter had taken a break from the frantic research session in order to bring the Doctor some dinner. None of them begrudged her this—for one thing, she was likely the only one who could make sure he ate it, and for another she needed the time with him. She was being so strong for Jenny, typical of her, but he hoped that this might afford her a reprieve from maintaining such a mask. He often wished she didn't deem it necessary.

Some raised voices attracted all three of their attentions, and they returned to the main floor to see the others greeting Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright-Chesterton. The couple had obviously been replaced in the Doctor's room by River, and were now looking around the TARDIS library in awe.

"I don't think I'll ever quite get used to it," the man was saying.

"He certainly has expanded his collection," the woman commented, clearly impressed.

"Have you come to help with research?" Molly Pines was a woman on a mission, not even sparing a hello before gesturing the newcomers to River's vacated spot at a table next to Amy. "A fresh pair of eyes is just what we need—two are all the better!"

"Nice to, er, meet you, too," Ian said with a chuckle. Barbara was also trying to repress an amused smile, and took the indicated place next to Rory's wife.

"Hello. How's everything going?"

"We've built a rough timeline of the events leading up to the war," the red-haired woman informed them, flipping another page in the large tome she was perusing. "Sarah Jane was loads of help." Amy then looked up from the book at the brunette woman. "But how is he?"

"Not the best, I'm afraid," the Cambridge professor replied. "It was difficult talking about the war, though I can't help hoping he'll feel better for having done it. We left him with Professor Song."

"Yes, he seemed quite glad of her company," the woman's husband remarked.

"I'd hope so," Donna shot back, "he is married to her."

Rory was the only one who watched the couple for the usual shock, disbelief, and sometimes outright refusal that came with that revelation. But in that regard, the Doctor's first companions disappointed; aside from a slight widening of the eyes and a brief glance at each other, the two were quite calm.

"You're taking that, er, pretty well," Ron Sherwood spoke up after a rather awkward pause.

"Well he's been married before, hasn't he?" Barbara pointed out, and several of them nodded mutely. "It's not unreasonable for a man who's lived as long as he has to remarry."

Jack chuckled. "Wow, you two have come prepared for everything." He shook his head, and then added, "but I bet you couldn't guess that River's their daughter."

Rory had rejoined Amy at her table by the time the Captain had spoken, and so their immortal friend pointed at them both. But it wasn't Ian and Barbara's surprise that held his attention.

There was a loud _thud_ as a book hit the floor, and Rory looked to see Brian standing near a shelf, having dropped the thing in shock. "Dad?" He tried nervously, for his father was staring at him, worryingly pale.

"Your- your daughter- she's your _daughter_?"

Rory shared a quick look with his wife before both rushed over and led Brian to somewhere more private, trying to ignore the stares of the others. "Dad, um, you ok?"

"_Ok_?" The man repeated incredulously. "She's- _how_?"

"It's a really long and complicated story, Brian," Amy answered. "But while we were travelling with the Doctor, I got pregnant. Because of the circumstances, some bad stuff happened, and we couldn't- we couldn't keep her," she explained in a quiet voice, and he wrapped secure arms around her, knowing she needed the support. "But once we got her back with the Doctor's help, we were a family again. And maybe she wasn't our baby, but she was still our Melody. Melody Pond." Amy finished with just the slightest smile, and he felt so completely proud of this woman who was being so strong and had managed to see the good in their crazy, mixed up lives. It was because of her that he was able to, too.

"I know it's a lot to find out, dad," he began slowly, but his father cut him off.

"It's not that, Rory. It's the fact that I find out not from you, not from Amy, but from some friend of yours I barely know! How could he know when I didn't?" His father seemed so lost and so hurt, he instantly felt a crushing sense of guilt. His arms dropped from around Amy.

"I- I'm sorry," he said the only thing he could. "I just didn't know how to say it. How to tell you. God, I hardly know how to have a normal conversation with you at times, dad!" He couldn't help some of the pent-up frustration from leaking into his tone, and Brian took a step back.

"We didn't want to upset you, Brian," Amy added in a calmer voice.

"If I'm upset, it's only because I've recently found out I have a grown granddaughter who's already married! Oh God, the Doctor—that's my grandson-in-law?" The question came out hushed, and when they both nodded he shook his head, clearly overcome. "My grandson-in-law is on trial. It sounds like there's a good chance he might lose. What will become of him, of her?" His eyes went wide, and his voice was so soft that Rory practically had to read the name from his lips, "Jenny? Is she—?"

"Not biologically, no," Amy told him gently. "It's really complicated and science-y, but she thinks of River as her mother. And us as grandparents, sort of. It's not exactly an easy family to be part of, you know?"

But Brian shook his head again. "I don't think I do. I hardly know any part of this family."

"That's not all true," Rory countered, and his father snapped his gaze up to meet his. "Um, part of the circumstances of River's birth made it so that she's…different from us. More like the Doctor. And that means she's changed her face in the past. Remember Mels?" The older man nodded, though he looked confused as to how their old friend factored in to any of this. "That was her. Our daughter found us and grew up with us. So in a way, you knew her and were helping to look after her for quite some time. She's just been pretending she doesn't know you so she wouldn't scare you."

Brian appeared to be thinking back on those years of their childhood and young adulthood, likely trying to remember every moment he'd ever shared with Mels. They numbered to quite a few; the troublemaker had spent a lot of time at Rory's house, preferring Brian's calm demeanor to Amy's stricter Aunt Sharon. Or parents, depending on which version of reality.

His father nodded at last, saying in a shaky voice, "I'm not sure if I understand completely, but I'm beginning to. What I think about it is beyond me."

"Please don't be angry," a timid voice broke in, and they turned to see Jenny standing at the end of the aisle. "When we first met you, you didn't know about time travel or aliens or any of that. Amy and Rory weren't sure you'd accept us. But they didn't like lying to you."

Rory nearly went to comfort the anxious girl, but first looked to his father. He found that the older man seemed nearly stunned into tears.

"Not accept you?" He echoed hoarsely. "Why wouldn't I?" The simple answer was all the blonde girl waited to hear before almost leaping forward and hugging the man tightly. And Rory felt something fall into place that he hadn't realized was missing. A sense of relief and dare he say joy flooded through him, and he and Amy shared watery smiles. They'd faced their fear and come out of it stronger than ever before. And maybe with the Ponds banded together, they could face the Tribunal, too.

OoO

She thanked the sergeant for bringing the tea before looking once again at her guest. To say Kate was surprised was a gross understatement. But the elderly woman was silent as she prepared her beverage, so she simply took a sip of her own. It was already prepared how she liked it, as every member of UNIT had taken it upon themselves to memorize how she took the caffeinated drink.

It was her task now, though, to start this no doubt illuminating conversation. "I'll admit to being more than a little amazed when 2nd Lieutenant Jenkins informed me of your arrival. But I suppose when one assumes," she let the sentence trail off as the white-haired female opposite her sipped at her tea a moment.

"Very true," was the only comment she received back.

"Thank you for agreeing to help," Kate decided to simply cut to the chase. "With the situation as delicate as it is, any advice is welcome, and yours I'm sure will be invaluable."

"I hardly think that highly of myself," the old woman replied humbly. "And I hope I'm not really needed; UNIT already has the greatest advisor they could hope for."

"Yes, about the Doctor," she placed her cup down and studied the woman carefully. "Are you sure you want your presence kept quiet? I could arrange for some time for you to see him—"

"Oh no," the old woman now looked every bit her age as she too set aside her tea. "No, he would never want to see me. Not now."

"I'm not so certain," she attempted once again, but her guest rose from her chair with the aid of her cane and made for the door quicker than she'd have thought possible for an elderly woman.

"I think I will retire for the day," the woman excused herself. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're welcome," Kate called after her retreating back before sighing and rubbing at her temples. She was beginning to see what her father had meant by Doctor-related-headaches. But for now her hands were tied on this matter; as much as her personal feelings were pulling her in one direction, the conditions she'd agreed to as Director were tugging in the exact opposite direction.

She could only hope UNIT's newest advisor would stop being stubborn on this front. Though, thinking on the woman in question, that seemed unlikely.

**That's the end of this chapter. I'm terribly sorry if I overloaded on the Time War, guys, but once I started writing I just couldn't stop. Hopefully that's a good thing in your books. And at last, in answer to many of your questions, Brian has finally been made aware of his full legacy as a Pond! Yay happy family time, especially since I gave the Ponds literally nothing to do last chapter! This was me making up for it. And more on UNIT's new and mysterious advisor. Who is she, really? Of course, I know, but that'd be telling. You'll soon find out! **

**I made reference to a few Classic Who episodes in this one, such as "Mission to the Unknown", which was the first (and one of the only) to feature the Varga plants. I also name-dropped Steven Taylor, the Doctor's companion after Barbara and Ian, who they met briefly. The battle names I lifted from episodes like "Asylum of the Daleks" and others, and a lot of things about the war I researched using the TARDIS wikia. Not everything is Comic/Audio/whatever cannon compliant, like I made up that bit about Leela's husband. But I feel that I can use what I like from those and make up the rest, so long as it adheres to the show's cannon (as much as possible, anyway, since this is AU post-S6). Hopefully that isn't too confusing/annoying.**

**But I really enjoy hearing your feedback, so you tell me! Thanks so much for reading and please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm not sure why I'm suddenly able to start work on these almost immediately after I finish the last one all of a sudden, but I won't complain if you guys won't. Once again, thanks so much for all your feedback, I love hearing your theories and ideas, and I'm thrilled at the overwhelmingly positive response to my version of the Time War. I love stories about that, and now you all finally get to see how the Doctor came to be on the prison ship, and what exactly he did once he got out. Enjoy**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"It's good to see this stuff hasn't changed much from the seventies," her husband remarked after swallowing his first mouthful of what the UNIT mess hall called dinner. "Otherwise I might have had to go back and complain." She could see he was clearly trying to forget about the no doubt traumatic retelling of his worst days, and so River allowed it, smiling gently and settling herself on the bed that had recently been vacated.

"And what exactly would you expect from that? An apology?" She inquired with a teasing smile.

"Probably wouldn't get one—Brigadier was always too stubborn for that. Nevermind he had Benton to make him _real_ coffee whenever he wanted." The Doctor rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of fondness in it, before he set aside the tray. "Can't be bothered to finish this." He glanced up at her face, clearly scrutinizing as he asked, "How is everyone?"

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "It's hard to say. They're all handling it differently, you know. But every single one of them is scouring that library—under the direction of Molly Pines, in fact."

He looked surprised at this information. "Molly's here? And Ron and Aaron?" She nodded at his guess, and he shook his head. "Why on Earth would they bother?"

"Perhaps because they care about you, same as the rest of us," she pointed out, and he shifted a bit in the chair, as uncomfortable as ever when this kind of subject came up. River knew he was leery of discussing the brunette librarian with her in particular, considering he now had the knowledge and memories to understand the two women's rather combative first meeting. So she added in a lighter tone, "they've been quite helpful, all three of them. Molly and Aaron in particular know how to organize a search even in as big a library as the TARDIS'."

"Yes, you know, there's more than one reason I had her lock herself," he commented, half-grumbling.

"I know," she replied simply, and then reached into the bag she'd brought with her. "And here it is." With care, River withdrew the large volume titled in plain, intelligible English, _The History of the Time War_.

"Oh thank goodness," he breathed, his face the picture of relief. The Doctor grabbed up the book, crouched down between the bed and the chair, and tucked it under the mattress, puffing his pillow up to further disguise its presence.

"Honestly," she sighed at his frantic behavior, "don't you trust me to keep your secrets?"

Her husband looked up at her from his position on the floor, a quiet gratitude shining in his eyes. "Yes, of course," he answered, taking up her hands and kissing them both then simply grasping them in his own. "Thank you, River."

She let a warm smile spread across her face and used her current leverage to pull him up. He took the hint and sat next to her on the bed. "You know I'd never risk someone finding that—even if they had the best intentions."

The Doctor nodded, but gave her a considering look. "You don't mind that- well, I'm not really sure how it could help, but there's a lot on the Time War in there they'll never find in any other books. I don't want you to feel somehow responsible if that information might—"

He was right, of course, and the others would be furious if they ever found out she'd hidden this from them, but she simply put a finger to his lips. "Hush, Sweetie. I made my choice the moment you whispered your name in my ear." River gave just the slightest smirk as she added, "and not at Area 52, either." By the twitch of his lips under her finger, she could tell he was amused by that little dig. "And even if that information did sway the Tribunal in your favor when everything else wouldn't, it wouldn't matter if your secret got out."

"Quite right," he nodded, as she'd freed him to speak again. "I'm not sure how I managed to keep my head before you."

"You didn't, honey," she retorted with a full-on smirk now. "It got lost somewhere between five and seven-hundred."

He pretended to think it over. "Oh yeah. Guess that means no more kisses for you, Professor Song." It was a clear challenge and she knew it.

"I'm sure I'll find other uses for you," she drawled, letting all manner of wickedness show in her expression.

"Perhaps another time," he backpedalled rather smoothly, one of his greatest abilities. "After all, I'm afraid I'm sort of under lock and key, not to mention guard."

"That hardly mattered in Stormcage," River persisted, loving the blush that came to his cheeks. "Actually, this should be a rather fun role-reversal. I'm sure that nice sergeant out there wouldn't mind if we borrowed a pair of handcuffs."

And the Doctor laughed, causing a true smile to break out on her face. Because no matter how dire the circumstances, they had this; they always had this. "You don't have a pair of you own?" He sounded shocked at the very idea.

She grimaced, "They got confiscated. I had to give something up so they wouldn't find the book. So really I'd just be politely asking for them back."

Her husband chuckled again, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. He placed in kiss to her curls and murmured, "Not tonight, dear, not tonight."

But that only served to fill River with a warm, hopeful glow. Because that meant there would be other nights. And the nights were theirs.

OoO

When Ian and Barbara entered the next afternoon, the Doctor had just finished double-checking his stolen novel was securely hidden. The science professor made himself comfortable in a chair, as UNIT had kindly provided two more for them. But Barbara stopped at his side and placed a gentle hand to his shoulder.

"Doctor," she began softly, "about Susan—"

But he flinched and half-turned from her, a brief spasm of pain overtaking his features. Perhaps there was no physical wound, but that did not mean it didn't hurt. "Please, Barbara, I'd really prefer not to," he managed.

A quick glance allowed him to see the uneasy looks the two seemingly eternally youthful professors exchanged, no doubt worried on his behalf. But the Doctor had steeled himself for this conversation, the one he'd never wanted to have, and would not be dissuaded. Better to have it over and done with.

"Alright, Doctor," Ian agreed uncertainly, and gestured for his wife to seat herself as well. When all three of them were ready, the man began. "So, you were about to reach the end of the war, I believe."

"Correct," was his simple response. "It might be best to start with my imprisonment. I'm sure you've been briefed on the spaceship that crashed here." When they both nodded, he continued, "well there's something about it that I haven't told the others: I let myself be captured."

"Why on Earth would you do a thing like that?" Barbara looked appalled. "You know what they've done to prisoners, what they've tried to do to you!"

"I'll explain if I'm allowed," he replied somewhat testily, and her mouth snapped shut. She looked apologetic and so he tried to offer something close to a smile. "You see, the Daleks used their prison ships also as outposts, or sentries even. No Time Lord dared to try and get past one for fear of getting caught themselves. So they served as the perfect way of guarding something."

"And what were they guarding?" Ian prompted.

The Doctor licked his rather dry lips. "Well, as I've said before, the Daleks managed to breach even the Citadel on occasion. One of those times, they stole something. It was called the Great Key of Rassilon."

"Rassilon, he was the president of your planet, right?" Barbara checked, and he made a face.

"One of the Ancient Presidents, really," he corrected, "but he was brought back toward the end of the Time War. At any rate, the Great Key was named for him and it was actually my status as a former President of Gallifrey that afforded me access to knowledge of the Great Key."

Ian, however, had let a rather incredulous noise escape him. "You were president?" He repeated with almost a laugh.

The Doctor scowled and made ready with a retort, but Barbara quickly interjected, "What exactly did the Great Key do?"

Calming down somewhat, he replied, "By itself, practically nothing. But the Key was required in order to build the De-mat Gun." He could read their looks of confusion and had expected them, and so elaborated, "The De-mat Gun was an incredibly powerful weapon constructed by the Time Lords, legend even claims that Rassilon himself drew up the first designs. It would shoot a beam of energy that erased the target from space-time, forever. But the knowledge had been lost by the Time War, and we turned to deadlier, even more destructive weapons."

"How had the knowledge been lost?" Barbara, ever the historian, asked.

"Two reasons, mainly. Firstly, the gun could only be fired once, for not only did it remove the target, it removed itself from existence. Secondly, one of the side effects of firing it was a loss of memory, usually a few days' worth. So no one could study the gun after it had been used, and whatever poor chap ever managed to build one completely forgot how he'd done it," he managed to get a pair of small smiles from them for that comment, and he took heart from it, letting himself remain as casual as possible as he added, "For instance, I had once used it on a Sontaran and some of his troops when they invaded."

"You what?" Ian looked shocked, and he grimaced.

"I'm not exactly proud of it—though Strax is. Never mind who Strax is," he dismissed quickly when they looked about to ask. "I hadn't many options left and it was my duty as President," he gave the other man a rather pointed look, "to defend the Capitol from attack. I had to be told after the fact how I'd done it, and the only reason anybody knew was that the Great Key was leftover."

"But the Daleks stole the Great Key during the war," Barbara reminded, clearly deciding to get back on track. The Doctor felt his hearts start to sink back into his stomach; he'd much rather talk about Commander Stor. "And you allowed yourself to be taken prisoner in order to retrieve it."

He sighed. "Yes. I knew that eventually the prison ship would orbit the planet that was rumored to have the Great Key. In the meantime, I could draw up my plans, my blueprints, for a brand new De-mat Gun, one that could do far more than remove an entire army. It was at that point my intention," he paused to swallow and try to steady his voice, "to wipe out an entire planet."

"And why did you decide to do that, Doctor?" Ian asked quietly, not demanding, not judging, simply requiring an answer.

"Because it didn't matter if I could erase all the Daleks in the universe," he admitted, "the Time Lords had changed; they could never go back to the way they were. By the end of the war they had become a militant people, a hardened people, not likely to be content with their old traditions. For all I used to complain about their non-interference policies," he stopped to give a self-depreciative laugh, "that was the only capacity in which they could serve the universe peacefully. Otherwise _they_ would have been the ones to move out and conquer the galaxy, _they_ would have been the ones to subjugate those seen as inferior, _they_ would have become the Daleks."

"So you had to stop both of them," Barbara concluded, and he nodded miserably.

"If there had been some other way—but they had already gone too far. Sure, the Daleks may have begun the hostilities but it was the weapons devised by my people that became some of the biggest atrocities of the war. The Could've Been King, the Nightmare Child, all these things were their creations, and theirs alone. How could I destroy the Daleks and leave the Time Lords alive, and claim that I had acted to save the Universe?" He looked at them imploringly, which truly wasn't fair, because it shouldn't have been Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright's job to forgive his actions.

Still, the history professor reached forward and took his hands. "It's in the past, Doctor. Just tell us the rest."

"The rest?" He repeated, licked his lips again and glanced away. Freeing one of his hands, he ran it through his hair and took in and let out a huge breath. "The rest is- well it's a story." They looked puzzled by this, but he continued on.

"I finished my plans as the ship was orbiting the planet containing the Great Key. We were within its atmosphere, so I took my chance and escaped. The Warden let me, and I'd like to think I said something- meaningful, I suppose. Then I stole back the Great Key."

"But how did you get off the planet?" Ian questioned, and he gave a wry smile.

"Ah, you see I'd thought of that. I had previously landed the TARDIS there, and then used a Vortex Manipulator to land myself in the path of the prison ship. I hadn't wanted the Daleks—or the Time Lords—to realize that the Doctor had stolen the Great Key. Some of them, Rassilon undoubtedly, would have realized my plan. So the Old Girl was waiting for me."

He took another shaky breath and kept on with his oddly detached tone, casting his eyes about the room and never letting them linger on any one thing for too long. "Well now, all I had left to do was arm my newly made De-Mat Gun with the Great Key and it was ready. I- I fired it, and that was that. They called it the Moment."

When at last he looked back up, Ian was fixing him with a rather strange look and Barbara was frowning. "That was a little more vague than what we'd been hoping for, Doctor," the scientist commented, the closest he'd gotten to admonishing the whole time, and he tried not to wince.

"I can't help it."

"You said 'the rest is a story'," Barbara repeated, and he nodded hesitantly. "Well then, what really happened?"

"That's what really happened," he insisted, squirming a bit in his chair at their equally frustrated looks.

"Then how is it a story? Shouldn't it just be the truth?" She demanded.

"It's the closest I'll ever get to the truth," he returned in a clipped tone.

She threw up her hands and looked skyward as Ian scowled in irritation at his evasiveness. "Why—"

"_Because I don't remember_!" He was on his feet before he registered it, towering over them and not caring about their shocked and almost frightened expressions. "I _told_ you," he stressed, "I told you, the firer never remembers what happened. _Days_ of memory gone, I said, do you people even _listen_?" He was seething now, and strode away from their little circle of chairs, hating this mockery of a therapy session, hating the promises he'd made to do this, and most of all hating himself for once more being the cause.

"I only know what happened because of the convictions I'd had before I forgot, and that when I came to, the Great Key of Rassilon was sitting in my lap. And then it disintegrated," he let out a bitter laugh, "like it couldn't take what it had done—what I'd done. Everything else I had to infer the old-fashioned way; process of elimination, legends, books," he forced himself not to let his eyes stray to where he'd hidden _The History of the Time War_. "Everything that they're doing right now!" He pointed vehemently at the ceiling, in the direction of the TARDIS.

They were sitting exactly as they had been, seemingly still shell-shocked by his admission and outburst, and he sneered. "You all think I'm so brave and so tragic for having to live with the terrible memories of what I had to do—but I don't. I don't remember a thing." His lip trembled as he said softly, too harsh to be a whisper, "_How_ can I not remember it?"

That seemed to snap them out of whatever stunned state they'd been in, for Ian and Barbara both shot up as he crumpled to the floor. "Doctor!" both of them called out.

His knees were drawn up to his chest and one arm wrapped around his middle as if physically holding himself together. The other hand fisted in his floppy bangs and braced against his forehead as he took ragged breaths in and out. "How can I not remember it?" He repeated in a more panicky tone. "I _know_ the science behind it, but it's something _so important_—and I'm _missing _it! What sort of monster am I, that I can erase a whole planet from existence—my own _people_!—and completely forget about it?" He looked up to see Barbara knelt before him with a worried expression, but just far enough back as if he might lash out like a wounded animal. Ian stood even farther back, clearly at a loss.

"What was I thinking, in those moments? What was I feeling?" He stared at them searchingly, looking for answers where he wouldn't find them. "Perhaps the most important days of my life—for good or ill—and I have no idea. What was I like in the last days of the Time War, alone and afraid? Grim and resolute? Happy that it was over at last, and that _I_ would be the one to end it? Who was I? I'll never know that man, and I will never understand him. But I'm expected to live with his actions—_my_ actions."

Barbara at last reached a hand out, and he flinched again and sniffed, and it was only then that he realized tears were falling freely down his face, and his body was racked with suppressed sobs. "Perhaps," she offered tentatively, "in this case, ignorance is bliss."

He took another shuddering breath and considered her words, pressing his lips together in an attempt to get his breathing, and crying, under control. "Maybe. But I don't think so, Barbara. Not this time."

"Well we're going to make sure you have plenty of time to think about it," Ian asserted suddenly, and the Doctor could see a fierce protective edge showing through the man's concern. "Thank you for talking to us, Doctor; we know it wasn't easy." And for once, that rather common phrase did not sound hollow. He nodded once, and Ian moved forward to help his wife up.

"Is there anything we can do for you?" The woman looked reluctant to leave him, but also unsure of how exactly to comfort him. He could hardly blame her; it would be unfair of him to expect a woman who hadn't seen him in practically fifty years to know what to do in this situation.

"River," he choked out, tightening the hold around his torso. "Send River—please."

"Of course," she agreed quickly. He was then taken by surprise as the two professors dragged him to his feet and half-carried him to the bed, lowering him gently to it. "It'll only be a moment," Barbara promised.

"Thank you," he managed. But his trembling only got worse as the heavy door slammed shut behind them.

OoO

Jack was trying, and failing, to concentrate on the book in front of him. Aside from the fact that his eyes were threatening to permanently blur the written word in protest, he was very strongly tempted to continue demanding an explanation from the Cambridge professors.

Ian and Barbara had returned to the TARDIS library that evening in a near-panic, rushing River out the door with an urgent plea that she go see the Doctor immediately. Naturally everyone had crowded around the two after that for a not-quite-friendly round of interrogation, but had eventually backed off. It was clear the couple were very badly shaken.

This, of course, did not diminish Jack's worry one bit. Not at all; on the contrary, it had only grown and grown into some kind of giant worry-monster that threatened to destroy his peace of mind forever. He knew that the professors and the Doctor had been discussing the Time War, and his role in ending it. While Jack had always assumed the event had to be traumatic, it had always stayed in that nicely vague Really Sad category of his brain. He'd never actually put much thought to the reality of what the Doctor had had to do to really end the war.

Now he wasn't sure he wanted to.

But if they were to be of any help at all, they would need to find something to demonstrate the horrors of the Time War. So far, they'd constructed a rather detailed timeline of events that even had River impressed, which was a good sign, and they'd found references to certain groups or figures that had played significant parts in it. The Horde of Travesties, the Army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres, all rather discouraging names.

Obviously, Ian and Barbara now had a greater understanding of the war than anyone else in this room. If only—

A strangled yell and the shattering of glass pierced through his thoughts, and Jack's head whipped around in the direction it had come from. Hurrying along down an aisle, he raced up a flight of steps and made a turn into another aisle to discover the source.

Aaron Wood was standing in the middle of the aisle, staring with a transfixed horror at his arm, which was covered in an inky-black substance. Then the ink began to move, his eyes rolled up into his head, and the boy began to _scream_.

"Aaron!" Jack shouted in alarm, darting forward. The ink was running up the ginger teenager's arms, trickles that thinned out into words—_Dalek, exterminate!, Degradations, Citadel, war, Skaro, blood_

"What's happening?" Ron Sherwood came barreling down the aisle from the other direction. "Aaron!" The man cried, about to start forward.

"Don't!" Jack ordered sharply, causing the sandy-haired man to stop. Instead, gritting his teeth, he reached out and grabbed the boy's arms.

Instantly, the ink stopped its progress, seemingly unsure of what to do. But as he tightened his grip, it ran down the library page's arms, and up his. He released Aaron and stepped back, a split second of calm.

And then his world was plunged into darkness.

Bright flashes of light, and an eerie blue he wasn't used to seeing in the TARDIS, suddenly sprang to life. The bright flashes were the rather alarming sparking of wires, hanging all around as though they'd been jostled and knocked out of their original casing, and the pilot hadn't had any time to fix it. The man that Jack spotted doing a mad sort of ring-around-the-console, however, was instantly recognizable, even if he'd never actually seen him.

The hair was a longer wavy brown, the face a bit older, and his coat was dark and long with a vest and cravat underneath, but the Doctor was the Doctor. "Doc!" He called to the Time Lord, but he either didn't hear or didn't care to pay attention to him, for he continued without pause.

Before Jack could call him on it, however, the TARDIS suddenly lurched and rocketed to the side with an accompanying _BOOM_. "What the hell?!" He exclaimed, just managing to grab onto a sort of metal column.

"Oh no, not again!" The unfamiliar form of his friend exclaimed in despair. The ship gave a low, wounded groan as he worked furiously at the controls. "Please, you've got to keep us in the air—we can't crash!"

But it seemed that was indeed what they were doing, as Jack felt a peculiar sensation of falling that he had never really experienced before in the TARDIS. And suddenly everything flew up with the impact as they pounded unforgivably into some hard surface. When Jack picked himself off the floor, the console was smoking, and the Doctor was making his way on unsteady legs to the door, snatching—and here Jack's mouth dropped open in shock—a large high-tech gun up from a chair.

"Doctor, what are you doing?" He hastened to follow the other man, catching up to him by the door, but when he reached out to grab the shorter man's shoulder, his hand passed right through. "What?" He yelped in alarm. Again, the Time Lord made no indication he'd seen or heard him. "What's happened to me?" He wondered aloud. "Am I…not really here?"

The Doctor, meanwhile, had already left, so Jack shook his head and put the matter out of his mind. Whatever happened, he would follow his friend.

He regretted that decision almost immediately after stepping out of the TARDIS. They were on some distant planet with purpling skies in a double-sunset, and a sort of arid climate. The ground was a reddish-brown soil—though perhaps that was due to the blood.

Bodies littered the ground, some humanoid some not, and there were wreckages everywhere, presumably of other crashed ships. The TARDIS appeared shipshape in comparison. Shouts and the discharge of countless weapons were the only sounds heard.

"No, Doctor, wait!" A voice rose above the rest in a panicked cry, and Jack whirled about to see his friend pointing a gun at another man, who had his arms raised in the classic surrender pose.

"Who are you? A friend?" The Time Lord barked, and he could see the tenseness in his entire body, his knuckles white as they clenched around the gun.

"It's me- Drax!" The man replied desperately. When the Doctor did not lower the weapon, however, he added, "we took the tech class together! I failed the exams—"

"—because of the section on temporal theory," his friend said, at last relaxing his hold on the gun and lowering it. The first smile Jack had seen on this regeneration's face appeared, colored both with relief and strain. "You've regenerated."

"So I have," the other man acknowledged, obviously thankful he'd been able to convince the other Time Lord of his identity. "But I've lost that accent you were mocking before, you know—"

"_Drax_!" The Doctor screeched in horror, weapon back up and pointing at the sky. Jack could only watch in stunned silence and mounting dread as a hideous mass descended from above.

They were tall creatures, with putrid pink fleshy legs and metal arms that ended in sharp claws. They seemed to have no head, but instead had a single eye in the center of their bodies, the unmistakable electric blue eye of a Dalek. They dropped to the ground within seconds and began to rip everything and everyone to shreds.

Drax was unarmed—gun likely lost in a previous scuffle—and defenseless, and the Doctor gave an inhuman howl of anguish and rage as his comrade was torn asunder. He began firing at the advancing throng, knocking several back, but they were innumerable and kept coming and coming.

"Doctor!" Jack screamed, running to his friend, wanting to pull him back or fight alongside in this impossible bloodbath, needing to save or help him—but something began tugging on his subconscious.

"Jack! Jack!" Voices, familiar yet faraway, began to call, yet he fought against them.

"No, please! I got to help the Doc! Doctor!" He lunged forward one last time—

And sat bolt upright from his position lying on the floor of the TARDIS library, chest heaving, pulse racing, slick with sweat.

"Here." A cup was placed to his lips and he drank without question, cool water never tasting so good. When he'd finished it all, he was aware enough to realize it was Martha kneeling at his side, worry painted all over her face. Several of the others were close behind.

The rest were grouped around Aaron, who sat shaking like a leaf in Molly's arms. Ron kept patting the boy's shoulder, obviously troubled. Jenny, in particular, seemed torn between which one of them to go to first, and so stood in between, shifting from foot to foot anxiously.

"What happened?" He croaked, surprised at the hoarseness still present in his voice. His throat felt practically raw.

"We were hoping you'd tell us," Mickey informed him. "Ron says Aaron had this weird black stuff on him and that you took it from him, then you both passed out."

"I was- I was in the TARDIS. I think," the teenager suddenly spoke up, and Molly pulled back to look at him in shock. "It had to be, cause the Doctor was there—his eighth regeneration." Perhaps it was a good thing Jack had been somehow intangible. That Doctor wouldn't have known him if he'd seen him anyway. "There was something wrong- we got hit. Then it crashed and we went outside and I saw—" the ginger stopped and turned a little green. "Bodies, blood. Then I woke up."

"When everyone turned to him expectantly, Jack swallowed. "Well, I saw everything Aaron did, but then it continued. We were on some planet, couldn't tell which, but obviously turned into some battlefield. There was fighting going on everywhere and the Doc came across this guy—and held him up at gunpoint." The gasps that got from several of them helped reassure him of his own disbelief. "Then the man claimed to know him, started spouting off some stuff they'd experienced together, classes or something. The Doc believed him, and they started talking. But then these- these _things_ came. They were- I don't know. Dalek, but _not_. I don't know if I've ever seen something so ugly."

"The Skaro Degradations," Sarah Jane said, and he turned to see the journalist crouched by the broken glass, holding a shard with a label pasted to it.

"I'd believe it," he remarked. "They just started killing _everything_, and I mean just ripping things to pieces. They killed the Doctor's friend—Drax, his name was Drax." It felt important to add that for some reason. "Then Doc went nuts, started firing at the whole group of them, but they were closing in and he was all alone and—then I woke up," he finished quietly, wishing desperately for another glass of water. Ian and Barbara were giving him sympathetic looks, and he thought he understood why they hadn't wanted to talk when they'd returned from seeing the Doctor.

The others looked chilled by this tale, though Rory frowned and said to Aaron, "I thought we'd agreed to ask River about looking at these?"

The boy flinched and shrank a little further into Molly's protective embrace. "I know," he admitted, "but she left before I could get the chance to ask and it just seemed to be best way to find stuff out. Nothing bad happened at first; I tipped the glass over into my hand and a couple letters came out. It caught me off guard so I dropped the glass. That's when things got bad." He took a breath, then said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," his eyes seemed to search out Jack in particular, and so he flashed the kid a grin.

"Nothing to worry about. I'm made of tougher stuff than most."

"You're an idiot," Ron pronounced to the teenager, who looked down ashamedly. "But you're ok, that's what matters."

"Jack," Amy piped up curiously, "when you and Aaron said 'we', what did you mean? You weren't actually there, were you?"

"I don't think so," he frowned as he tried to puzzle it out. "Nobody acted like they could see or hear me."

"What, like you were ghosts?" Donna sounded like she didn't give the idea much merit.

"Like I said before, very _Harry Potter_," Martha commented.

"Actually you're not too far off the mark," River's voice announced her arrival, and the curly-haired woman picked her high-heeled way through the group and over to the glass shards, beginning to sweep them up. "Everything contained in these glass jars really happened, and happened to him."

"All of those?" The temp spoke up again, clearly taking in the numerous glass bottles. "And they're all about the Time War?" River nodded.

"Why would he keep them?" It was Brian who asked that question, having stood back before, but now he stepped forward, searching the archeologist's face.

"Because like it or not, he has to remember. These things, if nothing else." Ian and Barbara shared a significant look Jack wasn't sure he understood, but he was distracted from that by the choked sob that came from Jenny.

The girl was staring at the bottles, eyes brimming with tears, and then suddenly she bolted. "Jenny!" Amy called after, even running to the end of the aisle. But shortly they heard the TARDIS doors slam, and the redhead returned.

"She'll be alright for the night, Amy," River assured her.

"Alright. But don't you mean 'mum'?" The Scottish woman smirked as her daughter's eyes darted to Brian's calm face.

"I think maybe we ought to talk before we turn in," Rory suggested, and the four Ponds departed.

"C'mon, Aaron, you should rest," Molly fretted, she and Ron helping the teenager up and out of the library.

"You too, Jack," Martha added, and Mickey held out a hand first to her and then to him.

When the other man had pulled him up, Jack asked, "Should we stop now? The Tribunal's tomorrow and—"

"And we should be well-rested and ready to show our support for the Doctor," Sarah Jane countered before he could finish.

"Come on, Captain, you're dead on your feet," Donna remarked with a softer smile usually reserved for the Time Lord or Wilfred Mott.

He yawned and stretched. "No arguing with that logic." The Cambridge professors were already making their way out of the ship. "Are you ready, Professor Chesterton?"

The other man half-turned and stated, "I certainly hope so," before exiting the ship with his wife.

Jack certainly hoped so, too.

OoO

It was definitely nighttime, the Doctor could tell, and it was only confirmed by the lack of light coming from under the door. River had had to leave just a little time earlier; he had a curfew for visitors. He hadn't wanted her to leave. On this night, of all nights, he did not want to be alone.

So he was surprised when he heard the door swing open and saw a thin, blonde silhouette slip into the room. "Jenny!" He hissed, sitting completely upright in bed. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"It's ok, Gregory let me in," she whispered back, shuffling forward before stopping in front of him. "That's alright with you, isn't it?"

"Of course," he hastened to reassure her, patting the spot next to him. She hopped on without any further encouragement, and the Doctor sighed. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I don't want to talk, dad," she answered quietly, and he raised an eyebrow, once more bewildered.

"Oh?"

"No. Unless you want to, but I don't think you do." He felt an amazement that she had guessed it at all, without having even seen him for nearly two days! "I came here for this." And without another word, Jenny wrapped her arms snugly around him and tucked her head beneath his chin. He felt so momentarily stunned, and she used that time to lean and shift their weight so they were lying down, with her snuggled into his side.

Almost automatically, as if by instinct, one of his arms rose up and wound around her skinny frame, securing her there. And it was instinct, but one he'd thought long dead, for when had the last time been that he'd held someone—_his little girl_—like this? Not since—

But not even that memory, freshened by Barbara's earlier words, could keep this simple act from warming his hearts. So he pressed a kiss to the top of Jenny's head, and hugged her tightly.

They woke up the next morning in exactly the same way, but with a blanket laid on top of them that smelled of tea and some sweet fragrance the Doctor just couldn't place. Yet it made him smile.

**Ok, so waaaay long chapter. That's what happens when you get random ideas for new scenes halfway through writing it and forget all about the little page-count-thing at the bottom of the screen. But I think you guys are probably ok with that. At any rate, a lot of ideas, concepts, and whatnot in this chapter. **

**Yes, that was a flashback scene with Eight—poor Paul McGann didn't get enough screen time, so he gets a cameo in the story. Yay!**

**The De-mat Gun is a thing, it was seen and used by the Doctor as he described in "The Invasion of Time".**

**Drax is indeed a character from Classic Who, he is a Time Lord seen in "The Armageddon Factor" and his ultimate fate is unknown. So I killed him. Sorry, Drax. **

_**The History of the Time War**_** is in fact the book from "Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS", the one Clara read the Doctor's name in. Can't have our intrepid researchers finding that, so River swiped it for safekeeping and hid it in the Doctor's room because no one would ever think it might be in the highly-guarded area!**

**The idea of the glass bottles is a mesh between the liquid books in "JCotT" and, yes, the pensieve in **_**Harry Potter**_**. I figured if you can have liquid books, you can have liquid journals, but if you break the vessel containing them, instead of just being broken/unreadable like books, the contents go into your mind! Freaky.**

**Um….yeah. That's about it. In case you can't tell, it's super late while I'm typing this, so don't be alarmed by my apparent weirdness. On the other hand, if you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, that's also probably to be expected. At any rate, thanks so much for reading and please review! Next chapter is the Tribunal!**


End file.
